Daughter of Waves
by GreatSnapper
Summary: The Rapture dream is over, and in waking, the world has changed. Leaving the life she knew beneath the waves has always been Eleanor's dream, but the surface isn't the paradise she had hoped. Survival is still the name of the game but the rules have changed. The ghosts of Rapture whisper in her ears, reminding Eleanor that Ryan's utopia never truly lets its children go.
1. Beneath the Sea

"Are we going home now, Big Sister?"

The small, timid voice was enough to break Eleanor Lamb out of her reverie. She hadn't moved in hours, hadn't dared tear her gaze away from the horizon, as though afraid it might disappear if she took her eyes off of it."

She sat on the side of the lifeboat, staring out across the inky black expanse of ocean. The only light came from the piercing beam of the lighthouse, reaching into the distance beyond the edge of the horizon. The sun had long since dipped over the horizon, the last rays of its light a memory Eleanor wasn't sure she could believe.

The sun. After so long in the darkness of Rapture, kept blinded by the fathoms of ocean above and the delusions of her twisted mother, the sight of it had been enough to leave Eleanor breathless. How should one react to the sight of something so glorious, so beyond imagining as to make even the wonders and nightmares of Rapture's most brilliant minds pale in comparison? For all her genius, Eleanor had been unable to do anything other than gaze at it, lost for words.

Now though, sitting in the familiar darkness, surrounded by the little sisters she had freed, Eleanor's thoughts returned to her father. Father, I'm sorry. I wanted to be strong, but... I still need you. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she had tear tracks staining her cheeks. She had allowed herself to cry, for the first time since she had become a Little Sister, but it hadn't helped. Instead of feeling better, she just felt... hollow. Empty.

A part of her mind, the part that had been conditioned since the day she was born to soak up all the brilliance of Rapture, reasoned that it was only natural; she had, after all, just fought her way through hordes of nightmarish monsters and lost the father she had so desperately been trying to save. It was only natural that she would feel drained. She rejected these thoughts. Nothing more than the clinical thinking her mother had so praised. Looking at the still form of Subject Delta, Father, she couldn't bring herself to rationalize away what she was feeling now. It was too... cold.

A tug at the sleeve of her Big Sister suit turned her attention back to the Little Sister, now looking up at her with timid, curious eyes.

"Yes," Eleanor said, forcing a smile and gently caressing the young girl's head, "I think it's time we went home. Wait here for a moment. Big sister has one more thing she has to do."

Leaving the curious sisters out on the deck, Eleanor stepped into the cockpit of the lifeboat, still wet from its earlier flooding. Eleanor stood in the doorway for what felt like an eternity, staring down at the lifeless body of Sofia Lamb. There was a dull ache in her chest, a feeling she couldn't identify. Stepping closer to the body, Eleanor knelt down next to her mother, brushing a wet strand of hair out of the woman's face.

"Mother..." she began, her voice trembling, "I... I'm leaving. Leaving Rapture, and everything you intended for me. I know it's not what you wanted, but I..." Eleanor stopped, letting the thought go unfinished.

It was several minutes before she spoke again, her voice quiet and unsteady, "I always loved you. I hated what you put me through, what you believed. What you tried to do to me. What you did to me. You tried to teach me, but in the end I learned so little. Only what you thought I needed to become Rapture's messiah. But even through all that there was a part of me that loved you as much as I loved Father."

Eleanor took a ragged breath, fresh tears leaking from her eyes as she gripped her mother's cold hand in hers. "I wanted you to see me as something other than another social experiment. I tried so hard, but you never wanted a daughter. You had my fate decided before you chose my name. Maybe that's why I... why I had to..." she stopped, wiping tears from her eyes and shaking her head.

"I am sorry, Mother, for what it's worth. I hope... I hope someday I can be someone you would have been proud of, even if it isn't what you imagined."

Several moments passed in silence, the only sound the gentle lapping of small waves against the side of the lifeboat. Eventually, Eleanor rose, carrying her mother in her arms. The Little Sisters parted wordlessly as Eleanor carried her mother out onto the deck. For a moment, she lingered by the edge, before gently letting Sofia Lamb slide from her hands into the water. With another shaky breath, she pulled the still form of her father to the edge as well, gently caressing the glass window of his helmet. They had already said their goodbyes, and he would be with her always. It was time to let go.

The two bodies sank out of sight as Eleanor watched, back down to madhouse that had created them both. From the outside, even in its crumbling state, Rapture had looked serene and beautiful. Eleanor hoped that some of that peace would reach them when they returned.

"Goodbye, Father, Mother," Eleanor said softly, finally tearing her gaze away from the mirrored surface of the water. "Watch over me."

* * *

The cockpit of the lifeboat was large enough for all of them, though Eleanor had no idea how long they were going to need to stay in it. To be honest, she hadn't planned much farther than 'escape from Rapture with Father'. Now that she was here, with ten little girls in her care, she found herself at a loss. This was a first.

There wasn't time for her to be indecisive though. There was only so long they could stay out at sea, unless they intended to return to Rapture. Eleanor shuddered. She never wanted to set foot in that city again.

Unfortunately, she didn't have any idea where to go. She did, however, have an idea of where she could start looking. Before selecting their escape route, Eleanor had gone over the schematics of Sinclair's lifeboat. She looked around, trying to find the hatch to the rooms she knew were below the cockpit. It didn't take her long to find it, and when she pulled it open she was pleasantly surprised. Below her were shelves full of canned food and bottled water, as well as some other necessities. Sinclair was always one to be prepared.

The lights were still working, fortunately enough, and it looked as though the room had avoided the flooding of the cockpit. Eleanor noticed that the hatch she had crawled down was lined with rubber, effectively sealing it when closed. A wise decision, she thought, looking around. If water got down here, it would be much harder to drain out, and not everything was as waterproof as the cans and bottles.

Peeking through another hatch beneath her feet, Eleanor was pleased to discover the engines. She knew enough about machines to keep them running and patch them up, but she was far from a mechanical genius. Her brilliance lay in other fields: biology, sociology, chemistry, psychology, even music. All things here mother had thought were required to make Eleanor the perfect utopian. Apparently she had not considered mechanics to be a worthy pursuit. Still, a cursory glance confirmed that the engines were in stable enough condition to get her wherever they needed to go.

Eleanor did some quick calculations as she examined the stock of food and water. With her and the ten Little Sisters, they would be going through a lot of food and water. Fortunately, it looked like they would have enough to last them a little more than two weeks, so long as they didn't gorge themselves or use the water carelessly. Eleanor wrinkled her nose in disgust; there wasn't going to be much bathing going on for awhile.

Which brought her back to their biggest problem: she didn't know where to go. Mother was dead, and with her the last real threat to Eleanor. With no one to organize them, the splicers stood no chance against her even if they were to somehow follow her, so that wasn't a concern. And without Sofia Lamb and the mutated Gil Alexander, there would be no more kidnappings. At least, she hoped not. There were still Big Sisters down there, and they were more than capable of making it to the surface should they become inclined to do so.

Eleanor shook her head with a sigh. There was no point in dwelling on that now. Rapture was behind her, and no good could come of letting her mind drift back to those depths.

After some digging, she managed to find a map of the Atlantic Ocean and its surrounding land masses. She noticed that there was no convenient dot or marker that indicated where Rapture was. That was probably wise. Sinclair might have been a bit money-hungry, but deep down Eleanor knew he was a good man, and a map with rapture's exact coordinates pinpointed would spell disaster if it fell into the wrong hands... or a business competitor, she supposed.

Not being able to figure out their exact location was a bit of a problem though. She was confident that they had enough supplies to make it to whichever destination she chose, as long as they weren't directly in the middle of the Atlantic (something she wouldn't have put past Ryan, massive egoist that he had been). But if she chose wrong, then they would be stranded. Eleanor wasn't terribly worried about herself; she was a genius of unrivaled intellect, and she had enough ADAM running through her veins to power half of Rapture, but the little ones were less equipped. Their time as Little sisters had left them changed; they would never truly be normal again. The fact that even after being rescued they had been able to help her boil the water beneath the lifeboat was proof enough of that, but they were still children, in the end, and Eleanor would not let them be harmed.

She smiled, remembering what it had been like to watch her father save each of the sisters, to feel their gratitude and affection. It had been such a pleasant surprise that Father had been so gentle with them, so caring even as he tore splicers apart without mercy. It made her wonder if the instinct she felt to protect these Little Sisters was her own, or his. It was comforting to think it was him, guiding her, just as she had hoped.

With all that in mind, she needed to choose carefully. To the north was Greenland. From what she remembered, it was a large and sparsely populated island. It would be a good place for them to hide, but getting supplies might be a challenge. If it was the sort of place with villages where everybody knew everybody, then people were bound to start asking questions sooner or later. Eleanor briefly entertained the notion of finding some secluded spot in the wilderness and living off the land, like she had read about in books, but dismissed it almost immediately as foolish. Taking care of the sisters would be challenging enough already, and she really had no idea how to survive in the wilderness of the surface.

The British Isles and Europe lay to the East. They were a reasonable enough option. Plenty of people, and from what Eleanor had been told she spoke with an accent not unlike that of the English, though she wouldn't know. She hadn't gotten out much as a child.

Finally, to the west was North America; Canada and the United States. She supposed it wouldn't be difficult for her and the girls to blend in in either of those countries. Of course, she mused with a small smile, a teenage girl with ten little girls in tow was likely to arouse suspicion anywhere they went.

Eleanor let out a sigh. She was tired, and the pain of burying her father, and to a lesser extent her mother as well, was still a fresh wound in her heart. But she needed to make a decision. All those sisters were counting on her to take care of them now, and she had no intention of discarding the lessons she had learned from her father.

A sudden sound caught her attention, and she turned quickly, looking up through the hatch. The scratching of the radio drifted down into the room, and Eleanor's heart leapt into her throat as she raced up the ladder. Who would be trying to contact her? Had they been spotted? Her keen eyes scanned the horizon, trying to pick up any sign of a ship, but she couldn't see anything. Even following the light cast by the lighthouse revealed nothing but the endless expanse of black water.

"...Herr Delta...are y...saw the explo...picked up...signal..." Eleanor nearly collapsed in relief as the voice of Doctor Brigid Tenenbaum faded in and out through a haze of static. She ran to the console, tweaking the controls until most of the static disappeared.

"Doctor!"

"Eleanor, is that you?" There was a pause. "Thank God. I thought you were dead. I saw Persephone fall into the trench on the monitors. Is Herr Delta with you?"

Eleanor had to choke back a sudden sob. "He... no. Father and Mother went back to Rapture to rest."

There was silence for a moment before Eleanor heard the doctor sigh. "I see. I am so sorry, Eleanor. I know how much he meant to you, how much you went through to free him and yourself from your mother's madness."

Eleanor simply nodded, realizing after a moment that Tenenbaum wasn't able to see her. "Yes, I... I miss him. It hasn't even been a day and I already miss him so much it hurts." A Little Sister grasped Eleanor's hand, looking up at her with a small smile. Turning around, Eleanor noticed that all of the girls had come in the cockpit. She wondered if they had heard Tenenbaum's voice.

"It seems even Herr Delta could not escape Rapture, in the end," she cursed, bitterness dripping from her voice. "This city is a blight upon the sea floor. It consumes everything it touches. But it gives me some hope, to hear that you escaped."

Eleanor couldn't help but smile as she looked over the group of young girls. She had looked through their eyes, seen Rapture through the cloud of roses and satin that they had all lived in, herself included.

"I didn't escape alone. I managed to save all the Little Sisters in Persephone. Just like father taught me," she said, the last barely more than a whisper.

"You did?" Tenenbaum exclaimed, her voice equal parts elation and relief. "How many? Are they alright? Oh, thank you, Eleanor. I feared the worst when Persephone fell. I knew there were still so many little ones left in that terrible place."

"They are fine, just a little tired, I think. They helped us escape. There were ten of them down there still, and I managed to get them all onto the lifeboat before Persephone fell."

"Ten?" Eleanor could hear Tenenbaum as she turned away from the radio and called out something. A moment, later, the doctor's voice returned. "Then we have saved nearly all of the girls that your mother kidnapped from the surface. There are only a few left that need rescue. I will find my way out with the rest once I manage to retrieve them."

Eleanor felt a weight she hadn't known was there leave her chest. Doctor Tenenbaum still had a plan of escape. She hadn't realized it until that moment, but she had been worried about the doctor and the rest of the girls.

"I thought Mother destroyed your sub after you arrived," Eleanor said. "How do you intend to get out?" She bit her lip, her face a mask of indecision. "I... I should come back for you."

The doctor gave a humorless chuckle. "My dear, I spent the best years of my life in this place, working with Fontaine on these little ones and countless other abominations. If there is one thing I have learned, it is how to make do with the scraps of this dying city. Please, do not risk yourself and those little ones you have already saved by coming back here. We will be fine. But, I must ask, what do you intend to do now?"

"I don't know," Eleanor replied, watching the sisters behind her. "I have to make a choice, but I don't even know which direction to go or where we are."

"I see," Tenenbaum was silent for a moment. "Perhaps... yes, I think it is for the best."

"Do you have an idea?" Eleanor asked, hopeful. She would take any guidance she could get right now.

"The last time I was in Rapture, I managed to save many little ones. With the help of some... friends, I managed to sneak them into New York City, in America. I was living there when I heard of the kidnappings," Tenenbaum sighed, and Eleanor thought she sounded incredibly old and tired in that moment. "I tried to ignore it, but I knew what was happening. So I returned."

The sisters were beginning to crowd in around Eleanor; some of them clearly recognized Tenenbaum's voice, while others looked up at her, confused. She did her best to reassure them while the doctor spoke.

"It has been some time since I left. I did not intend to be gone for so long, but your mother made things rather more difficult than I had hoped. Still, everything should be there. My home should be a good place for you and the little ones, at least until I can return." The clicking and beeping of instruments drew Eleanor's attention as a nearby screen flickered into life, displaying an address and a name: Lewis McIntyre.

"That man, Lewis, he should help you," Tenenbaum said. "I have not seen him in months, but he should still be there. He does not know of Rapture, but he is... sympathetic, to my cause. He will help you hide the little ones."

Eleanor felt relief wash over her as she looked at the screen. They had a destination, a place to get started. She hadn't realized until that moment how lost she had felt. It was the first time in her life she could remember being without a plan, without a concrete goal and a meticulously planned course of action. It was not a pleasant feeling.

"Thank you, Doctor," Eleanor said, smiling. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

"That is a surprise, coming from you, Eleanor," Tenenbaum said, a hint of humor in her voice. "I thought you were always two steps ahead of everyone. You even managed to outmaneuver your mother."

"I usually am," Eleanor said with a chuckle, "but it seems I found myself on the edge of a precipice this time, with no more steps to be taken. I have you to thank for the path that lies before me now."

"It is the least I can do. The rescue of Herr Delta was entirely your plan, and I never would have been able to save this many little ones without his help. I am still in debt to you and your father."

Eleanor paused, considering something, "Well... if you really feel that way, then perhaps there is something you can do for me, Doctor."

"What might that be?" Tenenbaum replied, curiosity evident in her voice.

"Do you know of Grace Holloway?"

"I believe I remember that name. As I recall, she was once a singer down in Pauper's Drop. Why do you ask?" Tenenbaum asked, clearly confused.

"Before I became a Little Sister, Grace was the one that took care of me, at Mother's behest," Eleanor said, remembering the kind woman. She had never shown Eleanor anything other than kindness and affection, and before Father she had been the most positive influence in Eleanor's life. The thought of her, trapped beneath the sea in the crumbling mausoleum that Rapture had become, made Eleanor feel sick to her stomach.

"If you can find her, please take her with you."

Tenenbaum was silent, and Eleanor could practically hear the doctor considering her request.

"Very well. If I can find her, I will offer to take her back to the surface with me. But I will not risk the little ones," Tenenbaum said, her voice hard as steel. "They are still my top priority, but I will do my best to help Ms. Holloway."

"Thank you," Eleanor said, sighing in relief. "That's all that I ask."

A sudden thought occurred to Eleanor, "What of your friends? The ones that helped you into the city. Will they be able to help me?"

The other end of the radio was silent for so long that Eleanor thought Tenenbaum must have disconnected, but after a long moment of silence, the doctor spoke, "Perhaps, but that may have to wait until I return. I'm afraid you will be on your own until you can make it to Lewis. Follow the directions I gave you, and you should not have much trouble getting there."

"Alright," Eleanor said, her hands flying across the lifeboat's control boards, preparing for their journey. Now that she had a destination, she couldn't leave fast enough. "Please be careful, Doctor. I know you don't need me to tell you this, but even with Mother gone Rapture is far from safe."

"I am aware," Tenenbaum said with a dry chuckle. "It is a hell of my own making, after all. But I'm more concerned about you. The surface is not like Rapture, at least not the Rapture you grew up in. They will not be prepared for someone like you. The best thing you can do is not draw any attention to yourself, and try to blend in. Your safety on the surface relies on your ability to stay out of sight. Remember that above all else."

"I will, and I appreciate the advice."

"I am sure you will be fine. You are a resourceful young woman. Perhaps in you, Rapture can finally bring something good to the world," Tenenbaum said, her voice wistful. Eleanor didn't respond. She had her doubts about that. "I must go. The little ones need looking after, and you should be on your way. Good luck, Eleanor."

"Thank you, Doctor," Eleanor said. "I hope we'll be seeing you before long."

The gentle static of the radio faded, signaling the end of the transmission. Once again, Eleanor was left alone with the Little Sisters. Now though, she felt a sense of purpose. She flicked a switch, and the engines revved to life.

Eleanor's heart pounded in her chest. She had been dreaming of this moment for as long as she could remember. After so long, she was finally free of Rapture. In the few private moments she had growing up, she had fantasized about what the surface was like, what her escape from the city that had consumed her life would be like. In the end, it wasn't what she had hoped. Father was gone, and she had the Little Sisters to care for. But still, she had made it this far. Thanks to you, Father.

She watched the lighthouse as it turned, the inviting light little more than a siren's call. Eventually, she tore her gaze away, giving the sisters a reassuring smile. The lifeboat began to move, and soon the lighthouse was nothing more than a speck on the distant horizon. Eleanor couldn't help but spare it one last glance before it winked out of existence.

* * *

A/N: Does anyone still read Bioshock fanfiction? Probably not, but if you are then thanks for stopping in. I just finished playing the second game and loved the ending. Eleanor is a very interesting character, and I really wanted to write something with her in it, so here we go. It's a little cliche, but the end of the game is a really good jumping off point (and there honestly aren't a huge number of Eleanor-centric fics anyway). I took a few liberties with the ending, namely that the sisters are there and Lamb is dead. No real reason other than that was the ending I wanted, and it makes Eleanor more fun to write. If anyone does read this, let me know what you think.


	2. Welcome to the New World

The shining lights of New York City's skyline were a wonder to behold. The lights reminded Eleanor of Rapture, back when she was a child and the city was still beautiful. Perhaps Ryan had based the design of his utopia on New York, the gleaming beacon of what had once been called the New World.

A pale glow was visible on the horizon for hours before the city had come into sight. Eleanor had stared at it, following the light as the towering structures grew ever closer. The Little Sisters were crowded around the windows, staring out at the city. Eleanor wondered if any of the girls  
had once called this city home. Mother had been sending the Big Sisters to any country with an Atlantic coastline. New York wouldn't have been much of a stretch for any of her more mature sisters; it probably wouldn't have been too difficult to find an unattended child in the big city.

The thought of it sent shivers down Eleanor's spine. Despite her loathing of the place, Rapture had always been her home. She had been born there, and seen it in its heyday. What must it have been like for these girls, to have been ripped from their families and homes? To have been dragged beneath the sea to the nightmare of Rapture?

Her gloved hand absently rubbed her stomach, phantom pains tingling beneath her suit. Sometimes she could still feel the scalpel as it cut into her stomach, the cold hands of the doctor as he roughly moved her organs aside, the wriggling slug as it nestled into her stomach. All of these girls had experienced the same thing she had. She wondered if they could remember it as clearly as she did, or if the process Father had used to bring them back had torn those memories from them as well. She hoped it had.

By the time they made it into the bay, It was well past midnight—well behind schedule. Eleanor bit her lip. They needed to get to Tenenbaum's residence before the sun came up; it wouldn't do for them to be running around the streets of the city when most of its population was waking up. However, she didn't have any idea how long it would take them to get there. Moving on her own she could have done it quickly. Her teleportation plasmid would make sneaking around the city a breeze, and her enhanced physical abilities wouldn't hurt either. But with all the sisters with her, there was no telling how long moving through the city would take.

It was a strange feeling, having to be concerned about the rising sun. She had spent much of their trip staring in awe at the brilliant blue sky. The light of the sun had been almost unbearable those first few days, her sensitive eyes not used to its light. Once she got used to it though, she couldn't get enough of the sun. It was as if she was trying to make up for lost time.

Some of the sisters had reacted strangely to the sight of the sun, ducking behind her or hiding below deck. Eleanor had been confused by this. As far as she knew, all these girls had been taken from the surface. Perhaps the process that had turned them into Little Sisters had taken more of their memories than she had thought.

Tenenbaum's instructions had been detailed—the doctor clearly hadn't wanted to leave anything to chance. Getting through the docks without being seen was going to be tricky, but Eleanor couldn't take the chance of them being spotted. Ryan had been paranoid enough about outsiders entering Rapture that he had set up a system of torpedo launchers around the city. She wasn't sure what the Americans would have in place, but she wasn't eager to find out. She flipped a switch and the bathysphere went dark.

"Big Sister, I don't like the dark. Why did you turn the lights off?" one of the sisters asked, clinging to Eleanor's leg. The other girls crowded around her, all of them clearly uncomfortable in the sudden darkness.

"It's okay," Eleanor said in what she hoped was a soothing tone. "We just need to turn the lights off for a little while so we don't surprise anyone, okay?"

The sister nodded, though the concerned expression didn't leave her face.

The harbor was larger than Eleanor had been expecting. The light's of the city reflected off the water, giving her enhanced eyes plenty to see by. Compared to the darkness of Rapture, this was nothing. It was curious that the city of New York was lit so fully, even at night. Eleanor could understand that there were some people that must work at night, but the whole city seemed to be glowing with lights. In Rapture, the lack of natural light meant that lights had to be run at all times. Here on the surface though, they had the sun. Perhaps they had a different way of living on the surface.

Eleanor eased the bathysphere slowly through the harbor, careful to avoid the many anchored ships. In the night, they loomed out of the darkness like horrible apparitions. Many of the sisters cringed away from the hulking things, grabbing onto Eleanor or the others, but Eleanor kept her attention on the water. Tenenbaum's instructions had been clear: she was to follow the pier to the end, then dive to find the entrance to her storeroom.

It took some effort to find the alcove Tenenbaum's directions had mentioned, wedged as it was between the dilapidated dock and the rocky outcropping beyond. Without looking for it, it would have been hard to spot, even during the day. As it was, Eleanor passed it twice before her eyes finally caught the overhang that masked the mouth of the underwater cave.

She eased the bathysphere towards the entrance, sealing the door before initiating the diving sequence. Total darkness wrapped around them like a thick blanket, and several of the sisters whimpered in fear. Eleanor could identify. It had taken her a long time to get over her fear of the dark after she lost the eyes of Rapture's Little Sisters, eyes that cast a veil of light and beauty over even her nightmares. Losing that and coming back to reality was harsh, and the darkness had seemed to cling to her like tar.

The bathysphere came to a halt in front of the cave entrance. Even Eleanor's enhanced vision could make out little in the murky water. She flipped on the forward lights, and the darkness was replaced by a sickly green light. She cursed under her breath. Their dive had kicked up too much sediment for her to see clearly, and with the engines running it was unlikely to settle any time soon. She would have to trust her instincts.

The going was slow. The cave was narrower than Eleanor had hoped. Most likely, it had been intended for smaller craft, not something as bulky as Sinclair's lifeboat. Several times they scraped against the jagged walls of the cave, earning startled cries from the sisters as the screech of metal grinding against stone filled the cabin.

After what felt like hours, the cave widened and they emerged into a large chamber similar to the bathysphere docks in Rapture. Eleanor brought the lifeboat to the surface, letting out a breath as the tension eased out of her shoulders. Driving a large bathysphere full of children through a dark, cramped cave was not an experience she was eager to repeat.

The chamber itself was much larger than Eleanor had expected. The lights snapped on with an audible click, and she hissed and shielded her eyes from the sudden assault. One of the downsides to her exceptional night vision was that she didn't handle sudden changes in brightness very well. It was actually a little embarrassing.

The metal dock clanked and shuddered as the sisters ran off of the bathysphere, its rusted bolts groaning from disuse. Eleanor followed with slightly less exuberance. She didn't blame the girls for being eager to get off the bathysphere; a week cooped up in that thing was enough to drive anyone a little stir crazy.

Watching them, Eleanor couldn't help but chuckle at the antics of the sisters. They scampered around the cavern, exploring its nooks and crannies. It was nice to see that Rapture hadn't sucked all the youth out of them.

Turning her gaze from the sisters, Eleanor looked around the cave. It had clearly been designed with bathyspheres in mind, and from the looks of it someone had expanded on an already existing cave system. Struts supported sections of the cave that had clearly been excavated, climbing the walls in a lattice of wood and steel. High above, one of the massive lights flickered, the buzz of electricity clearly audible. Several dark passages led off of the main chamber, however, there was nothing to suggest they led to an exit. She would have to keep an eye on the sisters, though so far they had been steering well clear of the passages. Against the far wall, stacks of moldy crates towered over the rest of the cavern, rising nearly to the ceiling. On another wall was a row of lockers. A couple of them looked well maintained, but most looked like they hadn't been used in years, the latches caked over with rust.

Eleanor walked around the perimeter of the pool. Most of the other docks were in their upright positions, and looked like they would stay that way for a long while. She gave one an experimental shake and was rewarded with the sound of groaning metal and a shower of rust flakes. Two small cranes were on either side of the pool, and Eleanor watched as a Little Sister clambered up the rusty steps of one and took a seat in the cabin, playing with the controls. It was surprising to see the girls acting so carefree after having been so somber for most of the trip. Perhaps it was merely a distraction. Had she been the same after her 'recovery'? Somehow, she doubted it.

Eleanor had initially assumed Tenenbaum had found the cavern herself and adapted it to serve as her staging area for her efforts to rescue the Little Sisters, but the equipment and leftover supplies led her to a different conclusion.

During Rapture's heyday, smuggling items down from the surface had been a wildly lucrative enterprise. There was almost nothing you couldn't get if you knew who to talk to and were willing to pay a little extra. That hadn't changed during the violence that erupted soon after the commercial marketing of plasmids began. As the conflict escalated and violence became the norm, smugglers had changed their stock of goods; instead of liquor and cigarettes, they began to sneak guns and ammunition into the powder keg Rapture had become.

Eleanor had studied the fall of Rapture extensively, though a large part of what she learned had been from her mother's lectures. Those tended to devolve rather quickly into tirades against Andrew Ryan and his 'cult of the self' as Mother had liked to call it. The audio diaries she had been able to sneak out of Mother's office had been far more interesting. It seemed that despite Ryan's best efforts to make the city self sufficient, there were certain things people could only get from the surface, and he had been unable to crack down on the smuggling business while maintaining his support for free enterprise. Not that he hadn't tried to find other ways to interfere with their business.

How Tenenbaum had managed to find this place though, Eleanor hadn't a clue. There was a good chance she had known about it as far back as the beginning of the smuggling trade. Once she had managed to get into Fontaine Futuristics and had access to the resources and information networks that the company had at its disposal, there was almost nothing she couldn't have sniffed out if she extended a little effort. The doctor was also remarkably resourceful, something she had proven to Eleanor during their resurrection of Delta. Eleanor dismissed the train of thought as unimportant, walking over to the undamaged lockers. There would be time to muse on that later. For now, she needed to focus on getting them moving.

Much to her disappointment, the only things of any use she found in the lockers were a few of Rapture's first-aid kits, an EVE hypo that she was quite surprised to find, and several stacks of Rapture dollars of varying denominations.

_Well, I suppose if you decide to go back to the closest thing to hell you're ever likely to see, it doesn't hurt to be prepared,_Eleanor thought as she stuffed all the items into a bag she had retrieved from the lifeboat. Already inside it was the helmet and weapons of her Big Sister suit. She had been tempted to leave them behind, but somehow that had seemed like a bad decision. She couldn't imagine she would be needing them here on the surface, but she felt better having them with her.

Aside from what she had found in the lockers, Eleanor was a bit surprised at the lack of supplies. Tenenbaum must have cleaned the place out on her way down to Rapture. After one last check to make sure she had everything and the bathysphere was secure, she gathered the sisters and led them down the only lit passageway. They were almost there. She couldn't wait to finally have a chance to relax.

* * *

They were lost. It had taken Eleanor longer to accept that reality than it should have, but she was reluctant to admit that after everything they had done to get this far, she had been bested by shoddy street signs and poorly copied directions. There was a certain amount of sick humor to be derived from the situation.

I always thought if I was going to be beaten by a city, it would be Rapture, she thought, squinting at a faded street sign in an attempt to will the name to change to the one she desired. The sign began to quiver, but the words did not change. Eleanor let out an agonized sigh, and the sign stopped shaking. This was becoming pathetic.

"Are we lost?"

Eleanor glanced down at the Little Sister whose hand she had been holding. The girl's large, brown eyes squinted up at her, seeming to both accuse and question her at the same time. The girl's brown hair hung in filthy threads around her face and down her shoulders. Eleanor remembered her; she had been one of the sisters she had used to help resurrect Father. Erica, she believed her name was.

"No, don't worry," Eleanor said, forcing a smile. "We might have taken a wrong turn, but we'll be there soon. I promise."

"Are you sure?" another sister piped up from behind Erica. "Didn't we already go through this way?"

Eleanor opened her mouth to retort, but now that she looked around she could see that the girl was right. The position of the dumpsters and piles of garbage was exactly the same as an alley they had passed through half an hour ago. The smell was familiar too, though she was beginning to think the whole city smelled like sewage and rotting food. She rubbed her temples, trying to refocus her thoughts and clear some of the frustration from her mind.

From the harbor, she had managed to lead them through the mostly deserted streets and alleys of the city. Tenenbaum had left a notation indicating that the route she had devised was intended to avoid sections of the city that remained busy, even at night. Still, their trip had not been without its close calls. Several times they had needed to duck behind a dumpster or sprint into an alley to avoid being seen, and she had seen several vehicles unlike anything she had encountered in Rapture hurtling down the streets. The first one had taken her by surprise, and she had come inches from being run over. After that, she had kept a close eye out for the things.

Besides the stealth required for them to move around unnoticed, a task made many magnitudes more difficult by trailing a chain of barefoot little girls, the biggest problem had been the smell. It filled her nostrils and clung to her suit like a heavy fog. It had been nearly an hour after they left the cave before she had been able to breathe without retching, and she still felt sick to her stomach. Eleanor didn't like to think that she had let the smell distract her, but she had to admit it was a possibility. Not that it mattered. She shook her head, clearing it of superfluous thoughts. Now wasn't the time for that; she could berate herself for this once she had figured out a way out of the situation.

That was easier said than done though. As much as she wished there was a convenient solution to their problem, it didn't look like one was forthcoming. Following the directions had gotten them lost, and her aimless leadership since then had only made the situation worse. The dark sky indicated that it would still be some time before the sun came up, but at this rate there was no telling how long it would take them to find the place, if they even would at all. Eleanor could come up with only one solution to her problem, and she really didn't like it.

"Alright, everyone!" Eleanor said in the most cheerful voice she could muster, a huge smile plastered across her filthy face. "Big Sister is going to find someone that can tell us where to go. I'm sure that if I ask really nicely, someone will be happy to help us get to our new home, okay?"

A few of the sisters nodded, while others looked down at their bare feet, twisting their fingers together in apprehension. It wasn't the solution Eleanor would have liked, but they were out of options. Without more detailed instructions or even a map, there wasn't much else she could do. She just hoped she wouldn't end up regretting the decision.

Gesturing for the Little Sisters to stay put, Eleanor crept to the mouth of the alley and peered out into the street. Pale light from the street lamps spread a ghostly pale light across the faces of the buildings and the few parked vehicles in the street. In the distance, her ears could pick up the sounds of activity, of a city that bustled even in the dead of night. Here though, everything was eerily still. She waited for a few minutes, hoping to spot someone in the street, but to her frustration no one came. Her hands curled into fists and she bit her lip. They didn't have the time to be waiting around. She was going to need to be a little more proactive.

With a quick reassurance to the sisters that she would be right back, Eleanor looked up at the buildings on either side of them. They were tall, enough so that they would provide a good vantage point from which to scan the surrounding streets. Taking a moment to gauge the distance, her keen eyes scanning the edge of the roof for any sign of danger or activity, she took a deep breath before disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke. An instant later she was on the rooftop, the same purple cloud following in her wake, as well as an oddly pleasant tingling sensation. It took her a moment to shake off the sensation, and refocus on the task at hand.

From up here, she could see the streets on either side of the building. With any luck, she would be able to spot someone suitable and get back down before they got too far. She sighed, looking down at her Big Sister suit. It was comfortable, and did a good job of keeping her warm, but it was unusual enough that she suspected she was going to put anyone she encountered on edge right away. She would have to use the charm her mother had been so eager to utilize in her quest to turn her into Rapture's messiah.

To her satisfaction, she didn't have to wait long before she spotted a figure a few blocks away, slowly moving towards them. She narrowed her eyes, tracking his progress and studying his features. It was a man, dressed in well worn clothing and a black cap that hid his hair from view. As he drew closer Eleanor was able to make out his face, which was surprisingly youthful. He couldn't be much older than she was. Perhaps that would work to her advantage. With another flash, she was on another rooftop, just behind of the young man. One more and she was in the alley—landing directly on top of an unfortunately placed trash can.

* * *

The walk home from the printers was always quiet—not surprising at four in the morning—which was a big part of why it was Thomas's favorite part of the day. He ached; his clothes, hands, and face were covered with ink, and he hadn't eaten anything since noon. He had every reason to be miserable, but now, walking home in the cool night air with the sounds of the city behind him and the street open and empty, he was content.

Working for the papers was demanding, especially when your only skills were mechanical. He couldn't write to save his life, and he didn't have the mentality of a reporter. He didn't like bothering people if he could help it, and the way those vultures crowded around people, snapping photos and shouting questions, made him wonder how more of them didn't end up in the hospital. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, that line of work hadn't been in the cards for him. He was happy enough working with the printers, although he had to admit it would be nice if the damned things could go an hour without something breaking.

He took deep breath, tilting his head back as he walked and staring at the crescent moon. He winced as his neck cracked. Hours hunched over the hot machinery of the presses might have provided decent pay, but it was hell on the back. He'd have to stretch when he got home. If he went to sleep with his muscles tense, he'd regret it in the morning. The last time he had neglected to stretch, he'd barely been able to move the next morning. It had felt as though his back was trying to curl in on itself, twisting him into a ball. It had not been a pleasant day.

A crash sounded from a nearby alley and Thomas whirled in the direction of the noise, his heart pounding in his ears. His hand was in his pocket, grasping the handle of the pocket knife he had carried ever since he had been beaten and robbed six months previous. It wasn't an impressive weapon, the blade was no longer than three inches, but he was prepared to use it.

"Who's there?" He called, edging slightly closer to the alley. "Might as well come out, sure as hell aren't gonna sneak up on me now."

Footsteps sounded from the alley, and Thomas tightened his grip on the knife. It sounded like there was only one of them. That was good, he was confident he could take one, especially if he could surprise them with the knife. He'd have to be quick though, if they ran at him they might be able to tackle him before he could get the blade open.

Fear and apprehension were replaced by confusion when a girl who couldn't be any older than he was stepped out of the alley, covered in filth and wearing one of the strangest outfits he'd ever seen. Her dark hair was matted and filthy, and there were smudges of dirt on her face. As she approached, Thomas was able to make out her features. Even under all the grime it was clear that she was pretty, maybe even beautiful. Had the situation been less bizarre, he would have taken the chance to give her a more thorough looking over. As it was, he simply stood stock still, staring.

"I'm so sorry I startled you," she said with a smile, breaking Thomas out of his trance.

"Uh, that's alright," he said, feeling like a fool. "I was just heading home. Can't be too careful around here after dark." The words sounded pathetic to his ears, but he couldn't for the life of him think of anything else to say.

"Oh, of course," the girl nodded. Her accent was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. "It can certainly be dangerous after dark, I don't blame you for your caution."

Thomas gave her a quizzical look. "Right. So, uh, what were you doing in that alley if you weren't planning to rob me? No offense, but this isn't the best place for a girl to be wandering around at night."

"Actually, I was hoping you might be able to help me," the girl said, holding out a slip of paper. "I'm trying to find this address, but I think I've gotten a little lost. I'm not really used to the city you see, so I'm having a hard time finding my way around."

"Sure..." Thomas hesitated a moment before taking the slip of paper from the girl. There was something off about what she was saying. The words didn't seem to match the situation. Why was she out in the middle of the night, dressed in such strange clothes, and looking like she hadn't seen a bath in months? His mind raced to come up with some reason not to trust the girl, but he came up blank. So far, she hadn't done anything other than be a little strange that would suggest she had an ulterior motive. Besides, she had a nice smile.

"Jeez, no wonder you had a hard time, " he said, studying the directions. "Whoever gave you these must have been messing with you. They go all over the neighborhood. One wrong turn and you'd never get back on track. Who'd you get these from?"

"A friend gave them to me. I'm sure she meant well, but she can be a little eccentric at times," the girl said with a giggle.

Thomas couldn't help but smile. The girl seemed to be a little on the naive side, not to mention a little eccentric herself. Still, she seemed nice enough. "Well, I know the address at least. It's not too far from my apartment, just a block or so down the street, so I can show you how to get there."

The girl's smile faltered and her eyes shifted away from him. Maybe she didn't trust him. If that was true, she might not be as naive as he had assumed. It was good to be wary of strangers, especially at night. But he didn't like the idea of her being out on her own, his previous wariness quickly being replaced by concern as his hormones kicked in.

"That's... very kind of you," the girl said, clearly put off by his offer, "but I really just need you to tell me how to get there. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Hey, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable or anything," Thomas said, raising his hands in a placating manner. "It's just, people see a girl walking out by herself in the middle of the night and they start to get ideas. This isn't the best of neighborhoods you know, and it can be dangerous. Besides, you've gone and tangled yourself up pretty well here. I walk this way every night, and it took me months before I stopped getting lost."

"I am not defenseless," the girl said, an edge to her voice that caught Thomas by surprise. In that moment, looking at her steely eyes, he believed her. But as soon as it had come, the look was gone, leaving Thomas to wonder if he had imagined it. She was silent for a moment, her gaze distant. Thomas could tell by looking at her that she was chewing on her cheeks, something he used to do when he was younger. It gave her an almost childlike appearance.

"I suppose you're right," she said at last. "I would be very grateful if you could help us get there. Give me just a moment please." She ran off down the street, darting into another alley.

"Yeah, sure..." Thomas said, following her at a more relaxed pace. Suddenly, what she had said caught up with him.

"Wait... what do you mean 'us'?'" He shouted, sprinting to catch up to her. He turned the corner into the alley and froze, his blood running cold. The girl was kneeling in front of a crowd of young girls, all of whom were barefoot and just as dirty as the older girl. None of them could have been older than ten. He took a step back, his voice failing him. This was far from what he had expected.

"W-what the hell is this?" He stammered. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end, and the familiar sour taste of fear clung to the back of his throat. What he was scared of, he had no idea. But something about this whole situation was very wrong. "Who the hell are all these kids?"

The girl didn't seem all that bothered by his reaction. She rose, gently holding the hand of the little girl she had been talking to. There was something different about her now, something in the way she carried herself. It took Thomas a moment to figure out what it was: she was sizing him up, evaluating him as a threat. When she offered him a small smile, Thomas practically collapsed in relief.

"I'm sorry I keep startling you," she said gently. "I didn't really want to have to ask for help in the first place, but we didn't have any other options. I hope you can understand my caution though. As you said, the city is not always the safest place for a girl at night. That is even more true for my sisters than it is for me."

Thomas could only nod dumbly as his mind reeled. His instincts told him to leave, to get as far away as possible, but he ignored them. He wasn't going to let his fear get the best of him, and despite how unnerving the site was, he was nothing if not adaptable. The fact that he had come as far as he had was proof enough of that. He also wasn't stupid. They may all have looked a bit alike, but there was no way they were all sisters, at least not by blood; their ages were all too close to each other. He opened his mouth to voice his thoughts, then stopped himself.

_Jesus_, he thought, burying his face in the elbow of his jacket, _what the hell am I doing?_

There were plenty of things to be afraid of on the darkened streets of New York, especially when you ventured off the main drags. But a dirty teenage girl and a pack of grimy children was not one of them. What the hell was he so afraid of? What, was he going to run away and let them all wander around the city? It was a miracle they were all still in one piece as it was. Unbidden, images of a childhood spent hiding in dumpsters and living off scraps rose from the dark places he had hoped he had banished them to. He took a deep breath, willing the images away. The days he had spent on the streets had been a nightmare. He wasn't about to let that happen to these kids just because he was a little freaked out.

"All right... okay. Shit." Thomas took a moment to gather himself. He took a shaky breath and let it out, turning back to the impromptu kindergarten in the filthy alley. He noticed the girl watching him, a calculating look on her face. She must have been watching him while he had his little episode. It wasn't a terribly comforting thought, and more than a little embarrassing.

"So!" He said after a moment, trying his best to sound cheerful. "Your big sister tells me you're lost. Well it just so happens I know this city like the back of my hand, and I can help you get home. Just leave every to me, and we'll be there in no time, how does that sound?"

The girls looked at him, some of them curious, others frightened, before turning to the older girl, who Thomas noticed had a very amused look on her face.

"Well, isn't that nice of him?" She said, gesturing for the girls to join hands. "I'm sure he'll be able to lead us to our new home in no time at all. Now, everyone stay close so we don't get lost." She turned back to Thomas, still wearing that same amused expression. "Lead the way."

Thomas nodded, still trying to get over his shock, and soon they were walking down the street, the train of little girls hugging the shadows as Thomas glanced back down at the slip of paper the girl had handed him. It was going to be a long walk.

By the time he finally got up the courage to speak again, they had nearly arrived at their destination. The sky was beginning to show hints of grey as the sun began its slow crawl over the horizon. Clouds rolled in to meet the coming dawn, and in the distance he heard a crack of thunder. Looked like it was going to be another grey day.

"So... uh," Thomas started, glancing at the strange girl out of the corner of his eye, "What's your name anyway?"

This seemed to pull the girl out of whatever thoughts she had been engaged in. She gave him a brief glance, her eyes guarded, but after a moment she relaxed.

"It's Eleanor," she said, giving him a small smile that seemed to remove much of the grime covering her face. Thomas felt heat in his cheeks and quickly turned away.

"Eleanor, huh? Just Eleanor?"

"For now."

Thomas didn't miss the playful tone in her voice and couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, I suppose it'll have to do then. It's a nice name. Can't say I've ever met an Eleanor before. I'm Thomas, by the way."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Thomas," Eleanor said. Despite the light tone of her voice, Thomas noticed that her eyes were constantly moving, scanning the alleys and shadows. For what, he had no idea. Not for the first time he wondered just what kind of trouble he was inviting by getting involved in this situation.

'Maybe I should have just left,' he thought, trying to stifle a yawn. 'I might be getting in over my head.'

"You mentioned you take this route on your way home from work," Eleanor said, breaking him out of his thoughts, "what do you do?"

"Hm? Oh, well I'm a mechanic, I guess you could say. I work down at the printers, where a lot of the city's newspapers are printed, though a lot of the bigger ones own their own presses." He held up his ink stained hands as evidence. "It's hot, dirty work, and it doesn't pay as well as I'd like, but it keeps me busy and pays the bills, so I can't really complain. Those machines are always breaking down though, and it can be dangerous crawling down in between the rollers. I know more than a couple guys that have lost hands or fingers when the machines started up with them still working on 'em."

"You seem to have all your fingers still attached though," Eleanor said. "I take it you're a skilled technician."

Thomas shrugged, glancing behind him at the girls following Eleanor. Every so often one of them would glance at him with curious eyes. "I do all right. More luck than skill I imagine, but sometimes that's all you need. I'll take what I can get in this city."

They walked in silence for awhile. Thomas craned his neck and looked at the clouds rolling in. The air was heavy with moisture, and the morning haze was thick. It was going to be a heavy rain. He just hoped it stopped before he had to go to work. He had nothing against a little rain, but he hated getting to work dripping wet. Wet clothes made for an uncomfortable day, especially since he didn't have anything to change into in his locker; he didn't really have much in the way of spare clothes.

"What's it like here?" Eleanor asked, breaking the silence with the first genuine trace of curiosity Thomas had heard from her. "I don't really know anything about this city. Truth be told, I only came to New York because I have a friend that lives here."

Thomas bit back the first questions that sprang to mind. He was still curious as to how Eleanor had ended up leading these children through the city in the middle of the night, but he doubted she would give him a straight answer even if he did ask. Not that he really blamed her. Trust isn't something that came cheap, especially when you were running from something.

"It can be a rough town," he said after a moment. "I grew up here, and things haven't always been easy. Still aren't. It's the same as anywhere else I guess; the law protects the guys with the money and lets us small fry fall through the cracks." There was a trace of bitterness in his voice that did not go unnoticed by Eleanor. "But I still love it here. It might not be the easiest place in the world to live, but everyone can find a place for themselves if they work at it. Nothing's gonna come free though, so I hope you're ready to work if you're looking to make a home here."

"Of course," Eleanor replied. "I'm not the type to sit idle anyway; it's not in my nature, you might say."

"That attitude is a good start, and this is as good a place as any for a girl with a pretty face to find some success," Thomas said. "I'm sure you'll be fine."

"Oh?" Eleanor said, giving him a sly look. "A pretty face, you say? I'll have to keep that in mind."

"Uh, yeah," Thomas said, looking away as he felt the heat rising in his cheeks.

A car drove past and Thomas watched as Eleanor tracked it with her eyes, moving to shield as many of the girls from view as she could. Given her strange behavior so far, Thomas wasn't terribly surprised by her actions, but it did make him wonder; was she just paranoid, or did she really have a reason to be so suspicious of every passerby? Of course, if that were the case then why had she asked him for help in the first place?

They rounded a corner onto Thomas's street. His neighborhood was never very busy, and this early in the morning the streets were deserted. Most of his neighbors worked day shifts, unlike him. They wouldn't be getting up for another hour or so. Given the circumstances, that was probably a good thing. He didn't relish the thought of having to explain the situation to any of his neighbors. While for the most part they kept to themselves, there were a few that were all too eager to pry into other people's business.

Buildings of brick and concrete lined the street, crammed together and in varying states of disrepair. While not what anyone would describe as the slums, the neighborhood was not exactly the kind of place you were likely to find any of the city's rich and famous spending much of their time. It didn't fall into any specific ethnic category either, though it was made up primarily of immigrants from Europe and the British isles. This made it a bit of an oddity in the city, but Thomas didn't particularly mind. He didn't feel any particular attachment to his Czech background, and would have felt out of place in a neighborhood heavily influenced by a culture he had never really known.

He glanced back down at the paper Eleanor had handed him. The address was familiar. Had he known someone that had lived there at some point? He couldn't think of anyone, but that didn't really mean anything. He wasn't the best when it came t names and faces. They passed by the apartment building he lived in, a six-story brick tower with a crumbling stoop and dirty windows, and continued down the street.

"Okay, if I remember right it should be just down the block here," he muttered, eyeing each building carefully, trying to identify the addresses. Numbers had a tendency to fade over the years, and the rate at which they were replaced left a bit to be desired.

"Did you say something?" Eleanor asked, tilting her head towards him.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Thomas said, looking up from the slip of paper. "I think the building you're looking for is one of these," he pointed to a row of towers with steel gratings over the windows, "but it can be a bit tricky to identify them. A lot of the buildings here look the same, and—ah!" He knelt down by the stoop of the building they had just passed, examining the faded numbers engraved into the stone. "Looks like this is it."

The building was unremarkable, nearly identical to the other apartment complexes lining the street. It was clearly a bit newer than Thomas's building; the windows were cleaner, at the very least, and the front door appeared to have been recently replaced. Scuff marks on the concrete around the door frame indicated a break-in, which was not at all uncommon. There were always people trying to force their way into the buildings, be it for the purpose of theft, a disagreement with the landlord, or simply because a tenant forgot their key and was in a foul temper.

Eleanor was looking at the building with an unreadable expression on her face. The girls huddled around her seemed to be somewhere between eager and nervous. Thomas couldn't really blame them; starting a new life in a strange city had to be hard, and there was no telling what they were coming from. Eleanor's behavior was enough to make him think whatever it was they were running from couldn't be good.

"I see," Eleanor said after a moment of silence, a trace of relief in her voice. The steadily increasing light made it easier to see her features, and for the first time Thomas realized how exhausted she looked. Dark circles framed her eyes, and her posture sagged. It looked like it was all she could do to stay standing. Thomas could only imagine how tiring looking after all these children must have been. "Thank you, Thomas. You have been a great deal of help. I'm sorry I don't have anything to give you to repay your kindness."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Thomas said, holding up his hands and offering a smile. "I was going this way anyway. It's not like I really had to go out of my way or anything. Just try to take care of yourself, you look like you could use a rest."

Eleanor nodded, absently stroking the hair of one of the girls clinging to her. "It's been a long day, to say the least. I'm certainly looking forward to getting some rest. I know my sisters are as well," she said, smiling gently at the girls.

"Well, I live just down the street if you need anything," Thomas said, turning and pointing down the street. "Will you be alright? I feel sort of awkward leaving you on some stranger's doorstep after you went through all this trouble just to get here."

"I appreciate your concern," Eleanor said with a smile, "but I'm sure we'll be alright. Getting here was the hard part, I can handle the rest. But if I do need anything I'll know where to find you. I'm sure you'll find that I'm more than just another pretty face."

Thomas felt a strange warmth spreading through his chest at her words, and it took him a moment to realize he had a goofy looking grin on his face. He coughed, trying to hide his embarrassment. "S-sure. Well, take care then, Eleanor. I hope things work out for you and your sisters."

"Take care, Thomas. I'm sure we'll see you again sometime."

Thomas bid the strange company good night, before hurriedly making his way back down the street towards his apartment, sparing a backwards glance at Eleanor and her sisters. She waved at him, some of the children mimicking the gesture, before they disappeared inside the building. He spent a moment staring at the empty stoop before letting himself inside his own apartment.

The elevator was out of order, a condition it occupied at least six months out of the year. The old stairs creaked beneath his weight as he slogged up the four floors to his room, his feet guided by memory to avoid the stairs that creaked the loudest. Everyone that lived in his building worked long hours, and none of them appreciated being woken up earlier than was necessary. He could sympathize. There were few things more aggravating than having his precious few hours of sleep interrupted.

He fumbled for a moment with his key, before unlocking the door to his apartment and staggering inside, kicking off his boots and letting his jacket fall to the floor. Exhaustion hit him like a truck, the bizarre events of the night finally taking their toll. He stumbled into his bedroom and collapsed on the bed. He didn't even care that he was still covered in grease and ink; it wasn't like the sheets were particularly clean anyway, and he couldn't muster the energy to trudge to the bathroom and take a shower.

The gentle pitter patter of rain sounded against the window pane, and he heard another crack of thunder, much closer than before. He lay there for a while, just enjoying the sound of the rain and letting his aching body rest. It had been an unusual day. But, not entirely unpleasant. Eleanor really did seem like a nice girl. She clearly cared a great deal for those girls she called sisters. Not many people in this city would be willing to stick their neck out like that.

His cheeks flushed again as he remembered her smile. There was something terribly intense about her, but when she smiled, all that seemed to melt away and she was a normal teenage girl. Pretty face indeed.

The rain picked up and soon the glass of the window was shaking with each clap of thunder, but Thomas didn't mind. He let his mind wander, and soon the sounds of the storm lulled him to sleep.

* * *

A/N: Got more of a response than I had anticipated when I started, so a big thanks to everyone that read chapter one, and to those of you that reviewed. Certainly makes it easier to keep going. This chapter was planned out over the course of about an hour, and this is about half of what I wanted to include. I feel like it drags a bit, but it's a bunch of stuff I wanted to do, though I'm not sure how well it all works. The rest of what I was hoping for will be in the next chapter, but this one was already getting to be twice as long as the first chapter, and I like to keep things at least a little consistent in terms of length. The perspective change wasn't something I had originally planned on doing, but I wanted a character that might have some viability later on, and if I stayed in Eleanor's POV the whole time I felt like it would make him harder to write later on. Anyway, let me know if there are any glaring errors in here, and whether this is going anywhere interesting. Over ten thousand words in and I haven't even started getting to the real meat of the story. Oh well, slow paced stories aren't always awful.


	3. Safe Haven

The concept of decay was not unknown to Eleanor. Rapture, while once a place of light and beauty, had long since become a festering canker on the ocean floor. Everything within it withered and died, or was twisted, warped beyond recognition by the "miracle" of ADAM. Once upon a time, life and death had coexisted in the sunken city, though calling it harmony would have been a stretch. The birth of the Little Sisters had been the first real step into the darkness; the small cough that foretold doom, the first spot of rust on the pristine hull.

What had Ryan thought, the first time he had actually seen a Little Sister? Had he ever even bothered to look at the monsters that made his utopia thrive? Or had he, perhaps, looked away as the girls giggled and danced, their very long needles plunging into the flesh of those poor souls too weak or stupid to really call Rapture their home. Mother had never made a secret of what she saw: abominations. To Mother, they had been nothing more than scavenging little beasts whose labor kept the enterprise of Rapture running. It must have come as quite a shock to her to learn that Rapture, in whatever form it took, could not survive without the Sisters and ADAM once they had been introduced.

There was poetry in the way she had rationalized her own use of the girls she had ripped from the surface, but by the time Father had been revived and Eleanor made her move, she doubted very much that Mother could see it. Mother and Ryan had always been two sides of the same coin. Ryan had made Fontaine the subject of all his hatred, and Atlas an avatar of his fear, which in the end had blinded him to the true nature of the threat Mother had posed, even while she was incarcerated.

And of course, Mother in turn had ignored the threat that could most easily bring her to ruin. While she had set trap after trap against the rampaging Big Daddy Eleanor called Father, Eleanor herself had been making her own plans. The noose was already tight around Mother's neck by the time she finally realized the threat Eleanor really posed. By then, all that Eleanor had needed to do was pull the lever.

However, Sofia Lamb's death had not been planned. Her fall as the ruler of Rapture, yes. Eleanor and Delta's escape, yes. But not what had happened after. It had just happened. Eleanor had seen her there, in the flooded cabin of the bathysphere, struggling for breath, and she had been overtaken by a rage she could neither fight nor explain. In that instant, she knew, she knew that Mother had felt nothing for her, had used her as a tool. A good tool, a powerful tool, but, ultimately, an expendable one. In that moment, Eleanor had known she could not let the woman live, despite the pain it would cause her.

And so, the cycle of Rapture had continued: Ryan, destroyed by foes he could neither control nor understand; Fontaine, laid low by that which he believed he had power over; and Mother, destroyed by a monster wrought of her own ambitions. It wasn't difficult to see where this pattern led, and Eleanor couldn't help but wonder, her stomach twisting painfully, what ignorance would lead to her own demise.

Such grim thoughts were probably not the best way to start a new life.

The stairs creaked and wobbled, rotting wood yielding beneath her boots like cork. Wallpaper peeled from the walls, revealing flesh-colored paint cracking beneath, spotted with mold and other far more mysterious stains. Even on the surface, there was decay. Eleanor had known that, had been prepared for it. She had known that the surface would not be some glittering wonderland to rival even Ryan's most fanciful dreams. If it were, the man never would have seen fit to leave it in the first place. Still, it was a bit disappointing to be proven right.

There was something different about it though, something that took the sting out of the obvious neglect. Yes the building was clearly in disrepair, and yes it bore superficial resemblance to many of the buildings she had seen in Rapture, but there was something about it that did not carry the same weight as what she had seen in Rapture.

As a child, she had marvelled at the wonders Rapture held. Inquisitive and brilliant, she had made the city her playground, whenever she could sneak out of Miss Gracie's sight. A city of genius, with mysteries to be uncovered and riddles to be solved. It had been wonderful then. It had been even more beautiful once she had become a Little Sister. The city transformed into a maze of crystal and gold, with wonder and beauty around every bend. And of course, Father had been with her always, guiding her through the light and protecting her from what darkness that world held.

When she lost those eyes, when she saw Rapture as it really was, what it had become, part of her had been torn away, unable to leave the rose-scented world of dapper gentlemen and beautiful ladies, of Angels and Daddy. She had tried for years to bring that part of her back, and when she had been able to revive Father, she had thought herself successful. But in the end, it had been one more dream; Rapture's last, grinning taunt.

The madness Rapture had descended into was far, far worse than the decay she saw here, and not just because there were no blood stains on the wall. The peeling wallpaper and creaking stairs lacked the malice that the decay of Rapture had oozed like pus. Every scar, every crumbling wall or leaking ceiling, screamed in agony. Rapture was a city in pain, its every wound the result of violence, neglect born of fear.

Here, in this dingy building with creaky stairs and dirty windows, she felt none of the threat of violence that choked the air like poison in every corner of Rapture. It was... soothing.

Eleanor yawned as she climbed the stairs, and soon, the other girls were following suit, a chorus of delicate breaths filling the silence. A small smile tugged at her lips. It seemed despite everything that had happened to them, these children had maintained their capacity to be adorable.

The trip had been long and exhausting, not to mention filled with unexpected surprises. Her thoughts drifted briefly back to the young man that had escorted them to their destination. He had been far kinder than she had expected. Trusting him had been less a gamble, and more a calculated risk. Despite her best efforts, she had known there was no way for her to lead them successfully through the city. Even with perfect instructions, it had seemed landmarks that did not involve street names or numbers were the only reliable ways to get around the city. She had none of the knowledge necessary to navigate this place, and he did. If he had proven to be a threat, she would have killed him, however much she might not have wanted to.

Thankfully, that had not been an issue, and to her surprise, Eleanor had found that she enjoyed his company. Not since she had been a child had she been able to talk to someone her own age, and even then it had been rare. Thomas had not been quite like anyone she had recalled meeting in Rapture. Of course, everyone she had ever met in Rapture was either insane, dead, or emotionally devastated. It was no wonder he had seemed so much different.

The glances he had sent her had not gone unnoticed, though she wasn't really quite sure what to make of them. In truth, she had never put any real thought into what her future held in the regard of personal relationships, friendly or beyond. She wasn't stupid, she knew what boys and girls did when they were her age, she just had never imagined it having any bearing on her. It wasn't anything she had ever considered as being in her future. But she couldn't deny there had been a part of her that had... enjoyed, being on the receiving end of those looks.

It took Eleanor a moment to realize her cheeks were flushed, and she quashed the thought.

They reached the top of the musty staircase. According to Doctor Tenenbaum's instructions, her room was on the top floor, as well as that of the building's landlord, McIntyre. Eleanor found herself wondering what kind of man he was. Doctor Tenenbaum had seemed confident that he could be trusted, though the truth of where the sisters came from had been kept from him. She wondered about that, about what it would take for a person to be willing to help so unquestioningly. Had he perhaps lost a child of his own? Was he doing it for reasons similar the the doctor's? Or was he simply naive, and in his naivety willing to help anyone that needed it?

Eleanor's thoughts occupied her until she found herself in front of a simple wooden door with a faded bronze plate that read "Landlord". She raised her fist to knock, but stopped, realizing suddenly that this was the end of the line. This was where the situation went outside of her control, where she really needed to trust someone for the first time since she had escaped Rapture. Sure, she had placed a certain amount of trust in Thomas, but that had been different. If things with him had ended up going poorly, she could have killed him, or knocked him out and escaped with the sisters. It would have been more difficult to find their destination, but she could have figured something out.

Now though, she had no such options. If McIntyre turned out to be hostile, if he turned them away and refused to help, then there would be nothing she could achieve with violence or wit. Even if threatening him worked, such an arrangement couldn't last. She couldn't always be on guard against him if he planned to do them ill, especially with the sisters unable to defend themselves. No, they would have to leave. And then what? What was her backup plan? Eleanor prided herself on being able to see a way out of any situation, no matter how hopeless, but she knew next to nothing about the word on the surface. There was a limit to what she could accomplish with ten little girls in tow. There was no plan B, only the trust she had placed in Doctor Tenenbaum. She just hoped that was enough.

Eleanor took a deep breath, and knocked.

The heavy sound of her gloved knuckles hitting the solid wood of the door was followed by a lengthy pause, in which not one of the assembled little sisters made a sound. Eleanor could hear her heart hammering in her chest as her blood pumped in her ears. She waited for the telltale signs of activity behind the door, of someone having been alerted to their presence, but there was nothing. Faintly, she heard the sound of thunder from outside, and the moisture in the air seemed to condense, much as the air in Rapture felt when there was a leak, though without the sting of salt. The analytical part of her brain realized that it must have started raining, a prospect that was both terrifying and exciting to her. She had never seen the rain before.

There was still no sound from behind the door, and so she knocked again, putting enough force behind it that the sound echoed off the halls and back down the stairs. Eleanor winced at the sound. She hadn't meant for it to be quite that loud. If someone else in the building heard it and woke up, she didn't think there was any good way to answer the question of what she was doing here and who all the strange children were.

After a moment, she heard the sound of heavy footfalls from behind the door, thundering towards them. A mixture of apprehension and relief flooded her, leaving her feeling weak. Someone had heard, at the very least; now the only question was whether that person would be friend or foe.

There was the sound of someone fumbling with a set of latches before the door was yanked open with a sudden, angry jolt, and some of the sisters stepped back with a whimper. A man that appeared to be in his mid to late forties stood in the door, his graying black hair standing up at odd angles and his face like a thundercloud.

"What the hell do you want?" he thundered. "Do you have any idea what time it—" His voice cut off suddenly, and he stared at them with a mixture of shock and dawning realization. Eleanor stood defensively in front of the little sisters, her whole body tense and flooded with adrenaline. She didn't know yet whether the man was dangerous, but she had reacted on instinct when the girls had cringed away from his frightening visage and booming voice.

"Aw, hell," he said, and all the anger seemed to melt out of him as he slumped against the doorframe. Eleanor watched him, relaxing a bit as he let out a heavy sigh. "I guess Doc Evans sent you, then? Those certainly look like some of her brats."

It took Eleanor a moment to remember that Doctor Tenenbaum had not told the man her real name, and she seriously doubted anyone else had ever shown up on this man's doorstep with a small company of little girls in identical dresses.

"Yes," Eleanor said, the word cracking as it passed her lips. Her mouth was dry, and she realized with a start that she was scared.

The man regarded her for another moment, his eyes passing over her Big Sister suit. She could see the curiosity in his gaze, but he didn't remark on her attire. He sighed again, running a hand through his greying hair.

"Alright, hold on a minute then."

He stepped back into his apartment, closing the door behind him and leaving Eleanor alone with the shivering sisters. None of them had uttered a peep, and Eleanor did her best to offer them a reassuring smile as they waited for the man to return.

The fear she had been feeling just moments before was beginning to dissipate, and her heart had stopped hammering against her rib cage. She hadn't realized just how nervous about this meeting she had been until she had tried to speak. Usually, she was able to keep herself calm, collected; able to face anything with a level head. It was what had kept her sane in Rapture, what had let her find the small cracks in Mother's plan that would allow her to squeeze through. It was a strange feeling to experience such a moment of weakness now of all times.

The door opened, and the man stepped out without saying a word, merely gesturing for Eleanor to follow him. She did, and the little sisters followed after her, careful to keep their Big Sister between themselves and the strange man.

He led them back down the hall, to an unmarked door that looked as though it hadn't been touched in months. The bronze knob was covered in dust, and there was a mustiness to the air that she hadn't noticed before. Everything looked undisturbed, and it made the silence all the more oppressive.

Eleanor followed the man inside, nearly choking on the musty air that filled the apartment. It was clear that it hadn't been occupied in awhile, but other than the dust it was surprisingly tidy, and much larger than she had been expecting. It was well furnished, in a style that Eleanor found strangely appealing. Large, comfortable looking chairs and a sofa occupied the main room, while hanging on the walls were paintings of bright and sunny scenes; a lake beneath a summer sky, a field ready for harvest, a forest full of orange and red.

"All those doors down that way lead into the bedrooms," the landlord said, pointing down a long hallway with several doors leading off of it. "They're double rooms, so the girls can choose who they want to share a room with. There are a couple bathrooms off the hall too, so if any of them want to take a bath or use the restroom before they go to sleep, then that's fine. The utilities are still running, so there should be plenty of hot water."

Eleanor nodded mechanically. She looked down when she felt a tug at her elbow, and found herself looking into the expectant eyes of several of the sisters. She smiled, inclining her head down the hallway. A few of the girls took off, and a moment later she heard a door slam and the sound of running water. The man beside her chuckled, shaking his head.

Eleanor looked at him out of the corner of her eye, curious. She had been expecting something... different, not from the place, but from the man. He seemed to be taking the situation in stride. She had not been expecting a fight, not exactly, but she had thought she would have to convince him, to plead her case before he would let them stay. Instead, once he had gotten over his initial surprise, he knew exactly how to handle the situation. She could see why Doctor Tenenbaum had sent her to him, but she couldn't help but wonder what the man had done to earn her trust in the first place.

"Whenever you're done starin' at me you should feel free to join those girls in taking a bath," he said, nodding towards the bathrooms. "I don't mean to be rude, but you smell awful, and I don't want you stinkin' up the place. I'll go make some coffee."

"Ah... of course," Eleanor said, turning her head away in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. Now that they were indoors, the smell was quite a bit worse. The man's footsteps receded into another room, and Eleanor went to join the sisters.

* * *

It was almost an hour later before the sisters had all been bathed and put to bed. They were asleep almost as soon as their heads hit the pillows, and Eleanor marvelled at how peaceful they looked once they were asleep; all the fear and apprehension seemed to melt off of their faces, and she could forget for the moment what they had all been through. She closed the door of the last of the rooms, leaving the occupants to sleep. It had been a long week for all of them, and they deserved whatever rest they could get.

Eleanor had changed into some spare clothes she found in one of the back rooms. They must have belonged to Doctor Tenenbaum; she and Eleanor were nearly the same size, though Eleanor was a bit taller than the doctor. Still, they fit well enough, and it was a relief to be out of the Big Sister suit.

Back in the living room, the landlord was waiting for her, regarding her carefully from over the rim of his mug. He gestured for her to take a seat, and she did, sinking into one of the large chairs. Her body groaned in fatigue. It had been far too long since she had been able to relax, even a little, and a wave of exhaustion rolled over her.

"Sorry I don't have the good stuff," the man said as Eleanor reached for the steaming cup of coffee sitting on the nearby table. He took a sip and made a face, bitter humor written in the creases in his forehead. "Tastes like hot piss, but it'll pick you up a bit. Doc Evans drank the stuff by the bucketload, but, then, I'm not sure that woman ever slept."

Eleanor took a tentative sip and blanched, trying her best not to gag. She had never been much of a coffee person to begin with, but this was horrible on a level she had been fortunate enough to avoid until now. The bitter flavor coating her tongue killed all sense of taste, aside from a lingering acidity that made her eyes water.

The man laughed, the smile breaking the weary lines in his face. "Try not to choke on it. Can't have my newest houseguest killed by my terrible brew. I'd never hear the end of it."

"S-sorry," Eleanor stammered, pounding on her chest. "It just caught me by surprise, that's all."

"S'alright, don't worry about trying to spare my feelings at all, just try to choke some down. I know you must be exhausted, but I need some answers from you before I let you get to sleep." His expression was serious again, the brief moment of mirth gone in an instant. "I don't know what she told you about me, or about this place, but it's been a long while now since I've heard anything from the Doc, and now here you are, turning up out of the blue with a pack of girls near identical to the crew she showed up on my doorstep with almost ten years ago now. It's a little bizarre, you see?"

Eleanor straightened, her guard back up and her eyes hard. As tired as she was, she was still alert enough to know better than to trust him too much just yet.

"Easy, easy," the landlord said, holding his hands up in a placating manner. "I don't mean to say I'm gonna throw you out or nothin'. Lord knows those kids need a rest, and you're the best thing they've got going for 'em right now if the way they look at you is anything to go by. I'm not threatenin' you with anything, I just need to know what I'm gettin' into this time is all."

He leaned back with a sigh, rubbing his eyes. "Look, I'm not tryin' to be the villain in your little story. Maybe we're gettin' off on the wrong foot here. My name's Lewis McIntyre. Been the landlord here for almost two decades now, and it's been about ten years since I first met Doc Evans."

He reached out, offering his hand. He held it there for a moment, his expression showing only patience. After a moment's hesitation, Eleanor reached out, taking the proffered hand. His skin was dry and calloused, and his grip firm. He released the handshake, leaning back in his seat and nodding, as though some question he hadn't asked had been answered to his satisfaction.

"My name is Eleanor," Eleanor said, interrupting the silence. She didn't know if it was wise to use her real name; after all, Tenenbaum had deemed it necessary to use an alias. Then again, there was no reason to think that she had any enemies on the surface, something the doctor likely had in great abundance. Still, it was probably best just to use the first name, at least for now. She didn't know if her mother had been anyone of note before her move to Rapture, but Ryan had not made a habit of inviting nobodies.

Lewis waited for her to finish, but merely nodded when it became clear that Eleanor wasn't going to finish. Eleanor leaned back in her seat, letting out a sigh. "I'm sorry about all this. It's been a very long time since I've been able to relax at all, and I'm afraid I'm still a little on edge. The journey here was far from easy; I'm afraid I still see danger everywhere I look."

"I can imagine," Lewis said, turning his gaze absently out the window. Rain was coming down in great sheets now, the grey light of the morning rolling off the walls as the water cascaded down the windows. It was something so strange to see, the rain. She knew what it was, of course. Arcadia even had an irrigation system that mimicked actual weather systems, though she had only seen it once. In Rapture, nature had been strictly controlled. After all, nearly a mile under the sea, even the slightest mistake could spell disaster. But here on the surface, rain was capable of far greater violence.

"Hasn't rained like this in a long time," Lewis said without moving his gaze from the gray skies beyond the window. "Storms like these, they can come out of nowhere, and you can never tell how long they'll last. Some people, they say the rain washes away all the filth and leaves the world lookin' fresh and clean. I never saw that though. Maybe that's the case up where the rich folk live, but down here all it does is spread the filth around."

Eleanor stayed silent, watching the man. There was a fatigue to his voice that came from more than the early hour. He was old, but not so old he should be weary of life, The wrinkles in his face were deep, and the creases in his forehead appeared to be a permanent fixture. The scratchy gray beard on his chin was untrimmed, and gave him a surly look. His thumb absently traced the lip of his mug, the contents no longer steaming. His eyes were distant as he watched the ever darkening clouds roll across the sky. A crack of thunder seemed to break him out of his daze, and he sighed, leaning away from the window.

"Well, like I said, I'm not here to give you trouble, I just need to know what I'm getting into with these kids."

Eleanor fidgeted with the sleeves of her borrowed nightgown. A cover story was something she hadn't thought to prepare. She had meant to, but somehow it had been forgotten in the rush of events that had followed their escape from Rapture. What could she tell him? The truth? Not likely. Even in the unlikely event that he believed her, there was no telling what he might do with the information. Tenenbaum had once told her that Ryan's fabled utopia was something of a legend among certain circles on the surface. She hadn't gone into any specifics, save to say few of those who held any interest in Rapture had pure motives. If any of them learned of her existence, there was no telling what they would do. No, it was better to lie, but perhaps she didn't need to twist the truth too terribly much.

He was still watching her, waiting patiently. He didn't appear to be in any particular rush, for which Eleanor was grateful.

"We've been on the run for a week now, more or less," she said at last, pulling her knees up to her chest. Her escape from Rapture flashed through her head, and she felt the loss of her parents again, a fresh wound in her heart. "I didn't know where to go, what to do. Everything I had planned was just to get out of that place, to get away from what they had planned for me... us. I'd been planning an escape for months, and when I finally got the chance, I was able to take those girls with me."

Lewis was staring at her intently now, an unreadable expression on his face "When Evans first showed up on my doorstep, all those years ago, she had a pack of rugrats just like those girls you had clinging to your skirt in tow. She never would tell me exactly what was going on, or where they came from, but I can guess. I've never seen kids that jumpy in my life. It takes a certain kind of treatment to do that to a child."

It wasn't difficult to figure out what he meant, but Eleanor didn't bother to correct him. It wasn't too terribly far from the truth, in a way. While neither she nor any of the girls had ever been subjected to that particular horror, it was hard to imagine anything more violating than having your stomach ripped open and a monster shoved inside you.

"It's not something I like to think about," Eleanor said after a moment. That much, at least, was true. It had taken years for the nightmares to stop. Even now, she could feel the ADAM roaring in her veins. It burned at her, always; a constant reminder of what she truly was.

"I won't press you then," Lewis said, standing and drawing the shades over the window, casting a pale darkness over the room. "Everyone's got secrets, and some painful memories don't need to be brought back up. I know you've got your reasons for coming here instead of going to the police. I also know there's a lot to this story you aren't ever going to tell me, and that's fine. I don't need to know everything. Hell, probably better if I don't. I trusted Doc Evans, and she never steered me wrong. If she really told you to come here, then that means she's trusting me to take care of you, and I don't intend to disappoint her."

"Thank you," Eleanor said, wondering again about the relationship between the brilliant german scientist and this strange man. What had Tenenbaum done that had made this man trust her so much? Eleanor didn't know all of the doctor's history, but she knew enough to know she had not always been the kind, motherly figure she was today. Perhaps there was more to this man than met the eye as well.

"I watched those little girls growing up, you know," Lewis said. His fingers absently traced over the back of his hand as he spoke, as though massaging an old wound. "They're about your age now. Still drop by from time to time, though it's been awhile since I've seen any of them. It was a long time before I was comfortable with them being here, but I never once felt like tossing them out. There was something about them, something I couldn't ignore, even if I'd wanted to." He favored Eleanor with a sidelong glance. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. There was something about him that set her on edge. He didn't seem dangerous, exactly, but there was something about him that felt almost... familiar. "You have it too. Whatever "it" is anyway. I can see it in your eyes, when you look at me. Something happened to you that shouldn't have, happened to all of you I'd wager."

"It's not something worth dwelling on," Eleanor said. "Not anymore, anyway. The only thing we can do is try to move on. It's what they... we need."

Lewis nodded. "The past is the past, and it ain't gonna change, believe me. You can wish 'til the end of days and it won't change a damn thing. All we can do is accept things as they are, and make the best of it." He sighed, and he suddenly looked even older than he already was. "I know I ain't got any place to be sayin' any of this to you. Hell, you've known me for all of an hour. All I want to say is this: the things we wanna run away from have a habit of comin' back to bite us when we try too hard to forget them."

Eleanor was silent for a moment, the only sound in the room the violent crack of thunder and the constant thrash of water against the window. "I think I understand," she finally said, standing, "I have no intention of running away from what's happened to me, I just don't want those children to have to fight with this forever. They didn't deserve it."

"Ain't nobody deserves the kind of treatment you kids have had," Lewis said with a shake of his head, "but you can worry about all that another day. For now, I think I've kept you up long enough. You sure as hell look like you could use a rest. You can take the first room down the hall, it's empty yet. I'll be heading back to my place, but if you need anything you can come get me. Not like I'll be getting any more rest today. Having a kindergarten's worth of tykes dropped on your lap makes for a bit of extra work, but I'll manage."

"Thank you again, Mr. McIntyre. Please, let me know if there's anything I can do to help. I don't want to make your life more difficult."

Lewis simply waved her off as he headed back to the door. "Girl, my life has been nothing but difficult ever since that crazy german showed up on my doorstep, you and your entourage aren't gonna bring anything I haven't already dealt with. I'll come check in on you and the other girls later on, so you just sleep as much as you need." With another wave, he disappeared into the hall, and Eleanor realized that she was alone for the first time since she had left Rapture.

The fatigue she had been holding back for days crashed down upon her like a wave, and Eleanor staggered, catching herself on the back of a chair. Even with her superhuman strength and endurance, there was a limit to how long she could keep going, and she had hit the wall. She staggered clumsily down the hallway, bracing herself against the wall. She let herself into one of the remaining rooms and collapsed on the bed like a puppet with its strings cut. Her whole body ached all of a sudden, and her head was throbbing. It felt as though a Big Daddy was stepping on her, trying to crush her skull.

She lay there for a while, not moving. The pain in her head only grew in intensity, and she groaned, her fingers digging into her scalp. This wasn't the first time she had experienced a headache like this one; they had been a permanent fixture of her life ever since she had begun the process of becoming Rapture's "Utopian". She could feel the ADAM thundering through her veins. It was a sensation she knew she would never truly be rid of.

There had been a time when she had wondered if her mother knew just how much suffering she had put her daughter through, but as she grew, she realized Mother simply didn't care. Despite everything she said, Eleanor was just another piece on the board.

A small whimper escaped Eleanor's lips, and she clutched her head as it pounded in agony. She hadn't had a headache this bad since before Father had been resurrected. The pain was excruciating, but she could bear it. It was nothing she had not experienced before, after all. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the pounding began to ebb away, leaving her dazed and drained of what had remained of her energy.

A distant crack of thunder shook the window panes, and Eleanor let out a tired sigh. Despite everything that had happened, she had made it. Everything she had done had been leading up to this, and now, finally, she could rest.

As Eleanor at last drifted off to sleep, the heavens opened up and let loose a torrent of rain that continued for hours, cleansing the city as Rapture's favored daughter slept.

* * *

A/N: This took a lot longer than I would have liked, but we're finally done with the prologue, or the arrival arc if you prefer. I actually enjoyed writing most of it, though the conversation between Eleanor and Lewis was a pain. I don't particularly like writing long conversations with little action, since it can be hard to keep it engaging. In this case, it was mostly an exercise in setting a scene and maintaining a tone. I wrote this chapter in fits and starts, so I'm happier with some parts than others. I like the way the beginning came out, but I don't particularly care for how it ended. Anyway, the next chapter should be out sooner, provided the chapter for my other story goes as planned. So who knows, really. If you liked it, please let me know, and if you didn't, I'd like to know why, if you have time. So, please review, and thank you for reading.


	4. Sick and Tired

The beast's labored breathing echoed in her ears, the deep, cavernous moan replaced by an almost pitiful rasping sound as one of Rapture's most deadly creations struggled to draw breath. Each time it inhaled, a high-pitched whine filled the air, and when it exhaled, it gurgled as though it was drowning inside the heavy armor that made up it's shell. Nearby, the heart wrenching sobs of the monster's charge kept her on her toes. No matter how many times she heard it, no matter what other horrors she might have been able to turn a blind eye to in this hellhole, the tears of those little ones would always be something Doctor Tenenbaum could not ignore.

Her mind drifted for a moment as she knelt over the fallen Big Daddy, back to a time when she had been the cause of those tears, and she shuddered. She was not that person anymore, but the memories she carried with her from that time would never leave her. In a way, she was grateful; she deserved to be haunted by her sins. Rapture may have fallen, but it left a legacy of pain and dark ambition that would last long after it had been scoured from the ocean floor. It was her responsibility to bear her part of that legacy.

She returned her attention to the Big Daddy, sparing a glance at the crying Sister. Her pale skin almost glowed in the faint light, and her eyes shone a sickly yellow that still sent chills down Tenenbaum's spine. Jack Ryan had been able to use the plasmid she had given him to free the Sisters he encountered in the sunken city, but for Tenenbaum, things were a little more complicated. Splicing had never held any appeal for her, and so she was relatively untainted, physically at least. She would need to take the girl back to her makeshift lab, where she had cured the others. It pained her to be around the girls when they were like this, a living reminder of her crimes, but it would have to wait for now. She had something more pressing to deal with.

The Big Daddy, not an Alpha class, like subject Delta had been, but one of the newer models, shifted slightly under her hands. It let out a pained moan, and the Little Sister cried harder. Tenenbaum took a shaky breath, trying to fight back the headache she could already feel approaching. She wished the girl would stop crying.

After a brief moment, the Big Daddy fell motionless once again, the light coming from its helmet a dim orange. It was dying. It was hard for Tenenbaum to tell how much time the creature had left, but at this rate, she doubted it would survive the hour. She frowned, staring intently down at the dying beast. She had no love for the armored protectors. They were simply another in the long line of abominations created by Ryan's greed and ambition; victims, yes, but in Rapture, who wasn't?

Still, something about this didn't sit right with her. She had been planning on luring the Big Daddy into a trap she had painstakingly prepared, only to find it collapsed in a broken heap with its Sister crying at its side. She had not done anything to harm it, nor were there any splicers in the area or any visible wounds on his body. Splicers were not the most subtle of creatures; if one of them had done enough damage to this Big Daddy to put it in this state, then there would be signs.

"This should not be happening," she muttered, checking over the Big Daddy's suit once more, hoping she had missed something. She hadn't. As far as she could tell, it was uninjured. It was possible that it had fallen ill, she supposed, but if that was the case, then it was the first instance she could think of of a Big Daddy contracting any form of illness. The hellish process they endured to turn them into these autonomous protectors should have also protected them from illness and disease. No, whatever was wrong with it was something she had never encountered before, and that frightened her.

Shouting echoed in the distance, and she turned her head so fast she felt her neck pop. They would have company soon, and as much as she wanted to figure out what was wrong with the Big Daddy, she couldn't afford to stick around here. Unlike Jack and Delta, she was not equipped to fight splicers in a head on confrontation. She needed to get the Sister out of here, or there would be trouble.

"Come, little one," she said, scooping the crying girl in her arms and taking off down the shattered halls, "it is time to go."

"No!" the girl cried, struggling in her arms. "Mr. Bubbles is going to get up, right, Mr. Bubbles? You were just resting!"

Tenenbaum felt her insides twist at the girl's words. She clutched her closer and did her best to shut out the desperate cries she made as they grew ever further from her precious Mr. Bubbles. Not for the first time, the creator of Rapture's greatest sin felt tears stinging at her eyes. For just how long would this cycle continue? How many lives had she destroyed in her blind pursuit of knowledge?

She wiped her eyes, carrying the girl as quickly as she could to safety. She didn't have time for self pity. All she could do now was try to finish what she started.

* * *

"Big Sister said we could find you here."

Tenenbaum stared down at the little girl, smiling up at her with her glowing eyes and pale, sickly skin. She had returned to Rapture fearing the worst, and now it seemed her fears were justified. A small part of her had hoped she was wrong, that she was not going to find a new generation of Little Sisters in the dying city. It was for that reason that she had neglected to voice her fears to Jack. He would never have let her come alone, if he knew what she had planned, but she had no intention of ever letting him come back to this place. As far as she was concerned, he had suffered enough. He deserved the chance to be happy with the family they had created, and she didn't intend to make him relive this nightmare. Unfortunately for her, it seemed her suspicions had been correct.

"What's wrong?" the little girl asked, peering up at her. "Are you okay?"

"I..." She didn't know how to respond. The girl's appearance was something she had been expecting, but never had she seen a sister behave in this way, at least not outside the presence of one of their Big Daddies. The carefree nature of the Little Sisters was something she had planned, but she had never seen one act like this before. It was unnerving, and she wasn't sure what to do. She had planned to get started searching for the girls tomorrow, but this one had shown up at her hideout, and appeared to know who she was. Did she also know why she was here?

"Don't worry," the Sister said, her tiny hand grabbing hold of Tenenbaum's. Her hand was cold and clammy, and Tenenbaum had to resist the urge to pull away. "I'm supposed to take you to meet Big Sister. She'll be able to help you get better, she know's everything!"

Tenenbaum let herself be guided through the decaying halls. Her nose was constantly assaulted by the tang of salt in the air, and everything around her felt as though it was covered in an invisible grime. The air was heavy and oppressive, a stifling blanket that frayed her nerves and put her on edge. Or perhaps it was simply the presence of the Little Sister that caused her stomach to twist so. Still, despite everything, she couldn't deny she felt a strange sense of nostalgia being back in the city she had helped destroy.

"Where are you talking me, little one? Who is this big sister of yours?" Tenenbaum had been wracking her brain for a possible answer, but so far none had been forthcoming. The girls were conditioned to cling to the Big Daddies. Whoever this new figure was, she was unknown to the doctor.

The girl merely glanced back at her with a giggle, her glowing eyes playful and a smile on her ashen face. "I told you not to worry, silly!"

They continued their trek until Tenenbaum began to become increasingly aware of her surroundings. Rapture was large, massive, even, and despite having spent nearly a decade living in the city, there was much of it she had never seen before. But she recognized these halls. She had spent the better part of her stay in Rapture in them, after all, letting her curiosity lead her down a dark and dangerous path. They were going to Fontaine Futuristics. The doctor felt a chill run up her spine at the thought.

As they walked, Tenenbaum idly noticed that the obvious decay and ruin that she had come to associate with Rapture was giving way to something else. The passages they now walked were clearly still in a state of disrepair, but they were very clearly much better maintained than the area they had just come from. This did little to ease her nerves. It made her sick to her stomach to think that someone was still using this place. Fontaine Futuristics was the sight of her greatest shame. Some of the things that had been done there—both on and off the record—gave her nightmares, even now.

They bypassed the main entrance, the Little Sister eagerly leading her down a series of side passages she had never had occasion to use in her tenure in Fontaine's labs, but of course, she had not been concerned about using the front door back then.

Finally, after what felt like hours of walking, Tenenbaum found herself inside an area she recognized. It was not far from the labs she had worked in, and the familiar setting was a little disconcerting. She wasn't sure if the stinging, sterile smell of antiseptic and cleaner was real or imagined. A door to her left opened, and the little sister looked up at her expectantly. With more than a little trepidation, she gathered her courage and stepped inside.

The interior was not exactly what she had been expecting. It was definitely one of the old labs—it might have even been one of hers—but it was clear at a glance that it had long ago ceased to serve as one. The instruments had been shoved to the side to make room for the dozens of toys and stuffed animals that lay scattered throughout the room. The Little Sister that had guided her here squealed in delight and ran to another pair of girls that sat playing in the center of the room. All three bore the glowing yellow eye and pale, grey skin of the Little Sisters. Despite that, they were laughing and playing, scarcely any different than regular children.

"They are still children, after all. Little Sisters or not, all little girls love to play."

Tenenbaum whirled, her hand darting to the revolver on her hip. A girl, or rather, a young woman sat on a bed in the corner, the white sheets tangled and dirty. She wore a pristine white dress, and her face was framed by her short brown hair. A smile smile rested on her lips, and Tenenbaum was seized by a moment of wild recognition when her eyes met pale blue. She knew this girl, but how, she wasn't sure.

"Who are you?" She asked, her hand never relaxing in it's grip on her weapon. The girl appeared unarmed, but in Rapture, that meant nothing. "Are you the "Big Sister" the girl spoke of?"

"I am," she spoke, nodding softly. "It's been a long time since the last time we met, so I suppose I'm not surprised you don't recognize me. I'm Eleanor, Eleanor Lamb."

A gasp tore its way out of Tenenbaum's throat. She remembered Eleanor very well. She and Subject Delta had been the first of the bonded Little Sisters and Big Daddies. They were to serve as the prototype for the rest of the Sisters at that time. She had heard that Sophia Lamb had rescued her and killed Subject Delta, but beyond that, she hadn't known what ultimately became of the girl. Until now.

"Please, there's no need to be frightened," Eleanor soothed. She raised her hands in a symbol of truce, and Tenenbaum thought for a moment she could see desperation in those pale blue eyes of hers. "I am not out for revenge. I have moved beyond what you did to me. I hold no resentment."

The Little Sisters had ceased playing, and were looking with concern between the two of them. Tenenbaum knew better than to simply trust the girl's words, but she relaxed, letting her hand drift slightly away from the butt of her weapon. Some of the tension eased out of the room, and she could see the relief on Eleanor's face.

"If you are not interested in taking revenge on me, then what have you summoned me for? For that matter, how did you know I was here at all?"

"I'm afraid I'm not the only one who knows you've returned to Rapture, Doctor." Eleanor's voice was grim, but still held the light note that Tenenbaum remembered as being characteristic of her, even as a child. "Mother and her Rapture Family will be aware of your return by now as well, which is why we must work quickly. As for myself, I have a... bond, of sorts, with the Little Sisters. They are my eyes and ears in this city, and through them I can exert my influence even outside of Fontaine Futuristics and Persephone. I'm afraid Mother has decided I am not fit to wander the city uninhibited. She confines me to Persephone. I can only sneak out here on occasions where her attention is diverted, something your arrival has done a marvelous job of."

"If what you say is true, then I don't have time to dawdle," Tenenbaum said, keeping her voice even. "The only reason I have returned is to see to it that these little ones are returned to the surface, where they belong. I have seen too many children suffer because of my mistakes, and I will not let this continue any longer."

There was a curious expression on Eleanor's face as she said this, and it wouldn't occur to her until much later that Eleanor may have suffered more than anyone because of what she had done.

"I understand," Eleanor said after a moment, standing and taking a step forward, her bare feet making no sound against the cold metal floor. "It was never my intention to get in your way. I want these children to be free as much as you do, but I'm afraid that for now I need them as they are. Without them, I would be blind and powerless, unable to stop Mother from continuing her plans."

"And what might those be?" Sophia Lamb was not a person Tenenbaum had ever been overly fond of. Of course, she had done her best to stay out of the political side of Rapture, particularly once things began to get ugly between Ryan and Fontaine. She did remember Fontaine once remarking that if there was anyone in Rapture that could drive Ryan as spare as he could, it was Sophia Lamb. Tenenbaum supposed that he had admired that in her, or at least had gotten some degree of satisfaction from watching Ryan squirm.

Now though, it seemed she was the last one of Rapture's titans still standing, the queen of a dying world. Tenenbaum couldn't imagine what the woman was scheming, and why she would see fit to restart the Little Sister program. No good had ever come of it, but if she was after control, then she would need ADAM.

"Mother is, in her own way, as mad as the rest of them," Eleanor spoke, a dark edge to her voice. It sent chills down her spine, and for the first time since their meeting, Tenenbaum was seized by the notion that this innocent looking young woman might actually be dangerous. "She and her cult seek to spread the "greatness" of Rapture to the surface. As if there is anything down here worth spreading. This city is a disease, it always has been. I need to stop her, but she has restricted my movements. I can't leave Persephone save on special occasions, and without the Little Sisters, I would be almost helpless."

"I see." Tenebaum was silent for a moment, thinking. "Sophia Lamb cannot be allowed to succeed in this, but my first duty is to these children. I cannot let this go on any longer, and if what you say is true, saving them should put a stop to your mother's plans.

"No!" Eleanor shouted, and Tenenbaum took a step back. The Little Sisters looked confused, almost frightened. Eleanor seemed startled by her outburst, and took a deep breath, sitting back down. "I'm afraid that's not good enough. Just rescuing them won't be enough, don't you see? You of all people know how toxic this city is. If, somehow, you do manage to save all the Little Sisters and return to the surface, then what? Mother will still be down here, and there are more than enough little girls in the world for her to start over. No, she needs to be stopped now, or she will just keep trying until she succeeds."

Tenenbaum frowned, not dropping her guard. "Then what do you propose we do? I did not come prepared to fight a war, I have no hidden army with which to fight hundreds of crazed splicers. What is your plan?"

Eleanor smiled at that, her brief moment of panic and rage almost forgotten behind the gentle features of her smile. "What do you remember of my father?"

* * *

Everything had gone fine. Once the Little Sister was back in her safe house, curing of her condition had been a simple matter. A flash of light, and brown eyes had fluttered open, confused and lost, but warm. Tenenbaum often wondered just how much of their time as Little Sisters the girls remembered. Her girls never really spoke of it, and neither she nor Jack had thought it necessary to bring up. Perhaps they should have, especially when the nightmares continued, far into the teens for some of them, but Tenenbaum had never been able to do it. She had never been able to shake the notion that it was her fault, and her guilt kept her silent.

The impression she got was that they could remember bits and pieces. On the rare occasions that one of them would mention something, it was always more of a feeling than a memory, as though it had happened in a dream, and they were grasping at phantoms. At times, it was easy to believe that the whole thing had never happened. They were such bright, cheerful girls. Even Elisa, the gloomy one, smiled when she thought no one was looking. But then something would trigger a memory; a sound, a smell, something moving out of the corner of their eye. She never knew what it was, but suddenly her smiling girl would be still, her eyes distant, trembling. It terrified her when this happened, but there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Tenenbaum collapsed onto a worn leather chair, massaging her temples as she let herself relax for the first time since she had returned to Rapture. Eleanor had been unlike her own girls in many ways. Physically, she resembled them quite a bit. Tenenbaum had never been able to figure out exactly why, but for some reason, even after they had been cured, all the former sisters looked remarkably similar. Perhaps it was because they had been similar in appearance to begin with, or perhaps it was something else, something about the ADAM exposure or the slug itself, a new hormone or gene. She had studied them extensively prior to her departure from Rapture, and still gave them periodic check ups, but she avoided any strenuous testing. She had done enough of that to last a lifetime.

But while they looked similar, there was something about the way Eleanor carried herself that made her look different. She was graceful, and she moved with a confidence that seemed foreign to someone so young. It had taken many more meetings between the two before Tenenbaum had finally gotten comfortable around the girl. It was hard for the older woman to shake the sense of danger that seemed to obscure Eleanor, to darken her. At times, she was as sweet and gentle as anyone she had ever met. At others, she felt from the girl a murderous intent so strong it felt as though it would smother her. It wasn't until near the end of their collaboration that Tenenbaum got an inkling of what it was that disturbed her so much about the young woman.

She had been with one of the Little Sisters, searching for the elusive strands of Delta's genetic code that would allow them to revive the Alpha Series prototype. As much as it had unnerved her to accompany the Sister, they were the only ones that could track down a specific sequence, especially in such trace amounts. It was a long and grueling process, and on this occasion, the two had already been at it for hours when they heard the deafening screech that threatened to make her eardrums burst.

The Little Sister had panicked, and they had fled. Tenenbaum had let her survival instincts take over. She didn't ask any questions, just followed the girl through a maze of passages she had never seen before. She had looked back only once, and the sight of the thing watching them from the ceiling had chilled her to the bone. One great, red eye, not unlike those of the Big Daddies. Long, flexible arms and legs attached to a body that bent at impossible angles as it leapt after them in pursuit. Long, vicious looking needles attached to its arms threatened a violent death if they were captured. The sight of the thing was enough to make her already panicked mind freeze in fear. If it hadn't been for the Little Sister, Tenenbaum had little doubt she would have been killed.

After that ordeal, Eleanor had explained, with some reluctance, what the Big Sisters were. It made Tenenbaum's stomach twist to realize that the ultimate fate of those girls she had left behind was to become even more terrible monsters than the Big Daddies ever were. That Eleanor herself was a Big Sister was something that wouldn't occur to Tenenbaum until after Sofia Lamb's interference had cut off all contact between the two.

Thinking about the girl now, Tenenbaum couldn't help but wonder how she was doing. Eleanor was a resourceful child; brilliant, and ruthless when it came to getting what she needed. She was a bit unstable, and that worried her, but if there was one thing Tenenbaum was sure of, it was that Eleanor would protect her young charges no matter what. She had watched as Delta saved them, one by one, and had seen how Eleanor had gone from seeing the girls as tools and occasional companions, to sisters as close as her own flesh and blood. Eleanor would protect them, she just hoped no one got in her way.

Tenenbaum allowed herself to doze for a bit, her sleep blissfully free of dreams. She hadn't had good dreams since before the camps. Nowadays the best she could hope for was to not dream at all.

When she woke, the recovering Sister was still asleep. No surprise really. It often took them almost a full day of sleep to recover from the process of having the slugs removed. It wasn't pleasant, especially without the plasmid, but without someone able to use it, Tenenbaum had to resort to more invasive methods.

Some of her exhaustion had left her thanks to her short nap. It was time to get to work. She needed to track down the rest of the Little Sisters, and there was still the matter of getting in touch with Grace Holloway. She had never met the woman before, but had heard stories of her time as a singer. Since then, she had apparently become a rather prominent member of the Rapture Family. It would have been nice if she could simply walk into Pauper's Drop and convince the woman to leave, but unfortunately she had no idea which of the Lambs the former diva was still loyal to.

And of course there was the new issue of what was happening to the Big Daddies. Tenenbaum wracked her rather formidable brain, but could come up with nothing that could be causing this sort of reaction. It resembled a disease of some kind; respiratory failure and loss of muscle control at the very least, and if she was correct in her initial diagnosis then the kidneys and liver had been failing as well. No disease that she could think of would cause all of those systems to fail simultaneously. Obviously, there were illnesses that could cause all of those symptoms, but not all at the same time. It was as if someone had simply flipped a switch and turned them off, letting them die as their bodies failed them.

She stood, stretching, and began gathering supplies for the journey ahead of her. The remaining Sisters would be harder to track now, since if she was right and the Big Daddies were dying, then they would need to go into hiding to protect themselves from the splicers. It would make retrieving them easier, at least, assuming she could find them in the first place. It was a shame Eleanor wasn't still in the city. If she were, she would be able to track them with ease. But it was for the best that the girl had left. Rapture was not a place Eleanor needed to stay in any longer than she had to.

Unfortunately, that left Tenenbaum alone to finish her task, but that was fine with her. It was her responsibility in the first place. But more than just finding the Little Sisters and Grace Holloway, Tenenbaum felt the need to find out what was happening to the Big Daddies. In a way, it was fortunate. Taking on those monstrosities by herself was not something she had been looking forward to. But something about this mysterious illness, if that was even what it was, tickled at the back of her mind, eating away at her. This was important somehow, she just couldn't see why.

Always the answers seemed to elude her these days. It was beginning to drive the aging scientist a bit spare. In her youth, she had always been so sure of her path, so certain of her conclusions. Was she simply losing her touch, or was she finally able to see that the things she had thought set in stone were as fluid as the sea around her? It was a depressing thought, thinking that perhaps everything she had ever done had been a waste. It was best to dwell on it. Besides, she had more pressing matters to attend to now.

Tenenbaum checked her supplies. Her pistol was clean and stocked with ammunition. Flashlight, rations, first aid kits, and even a pair of grenades she had managed to acquire by hacking one of the still working vending machines. Everything looked to be in order The former Little Sister would be asleep for some time yet, and she couldn't afford to be idle. She needed answers, and a way to track down the remaining Sisters. As much as she hated to admit it, there was only one place she could get both of those.

It was time to return to Fontaine Futuristics.

* * *

A crack of thunder rattled the ancient windows in their frames. The storm was close now, the full brunt of it bearing down on the city as it woke. Thick, heavy clouds blocked the light of the sun like a wet blanket. Water came down in great sheets and the air grew damp and oppressive with moisture. It had been a long time since Lewis had seen a storm like this one. Thunder roared and the wind howled against the old apartment complex, but the storm was the least of his concerns right now.

The man sat at a desk, a cigarette burning in between his fingers. His head was buried in his hands, and a long suffering sigh escaped his lips as he tried to will himself awake. he was exhausted. He was getting far too old to be dealing with this sort of shit. How could this be happening again? The sight of that girl and her entourage had been enough to make his blood run cold. Then again, Evans had been cryptic enough when she left that he should have suspected something like this might happen. Honestly, he should have been able to see it coming. But he hadn't. Once again, he had been caught flat footed. Just like last time.

He reached for a cup of coffee that sat on the desk. It had long since lost its warmth, and the old man grimaced as he took a sip. The stuff was bad enough when it was hot. Cold, he might as well be drinking rat piss. Another flash, and a heavy boom followed almost immediately after. Closer and closer the storm loomed. The shades were drawn, but the rain still cast shimmering shadows on the wall that kept Lewis glancing over his shoulder. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.

His hand grazed a business card that had been sitting next to his cup. It was simple, blank, save for a name and a phone number. He had never called the number, but the name kept coming back to him. Mikha Caspi. It was a name unfamiliar to him, but the man it belonged to had made himself very clear when he had visited, months ago. Lewis still got shivers when he remembered the man. He had been shorter than he was, and not of a particularly strong build. Still, there was something about him that sent shivers up Lewis's spine.

_"Doctor Evans has taken her leave, I hear. A shame. I had been hoping to speak with her directly. I've put a lot of time and energy into trying to speak with her. I hope you can understand, but I can't discuss things with you in any depth, but I would like to extend my protection to you, on the off chance she returns. That woman is far more dangerous than I believe you realize, Mister McIntyre. I would take it as a personal favor if you would contact me right away if she or anyone you believe to be associated with her returns. I know this might be hard for you, but believe me when I say that this is of the utmost importance. I would hate for you to come to any harm simply because you extended your kindness to some strange woman and her troupe of orphans."_

His words had been strange enough, and Lewis couldn't shake the feeling that there was something malevolent behind them. Then again, the envelope the man had handed him before he took his leave had been more than welcome. It had been a gift, Caspi had said, "In case you need a little more incentive." The money had been a godsend, but Lewis couldn't shake the uneasy feeling the man had given him. He had seemed harmless enough, but Lewis had the feeling that there was something terribly dangerous about him.

That was something Caspi shared with his newest guest, Eleanor. That same feeling of danger emanated from her, and Lewis just couldn't square that feeling with the scared, exhausted young woman that had knocked on his door. Surely she wasn't actually dangerous? But then he remembered that look in her eye, the flash of anger he had glimpsed when she thought he was threatening her, and the way his blood had run cold. There was something vicious about her, and he had a hard time believing she was entirely stable. Just what had he invited into his home?

The rain was coming down harder than ever, and Lewis was reminded of the Great Flood of biblical tales. Perhaps this was what the people back then had seen before the world was swallowed by water.

He picked up the calling card, turning it over in his hands. It was still blank, save for the simple name and number, just as he had known it would be. He glanced to the phone, lying innocently on the desk. It would be so simple to call the number on the card. Maybe that man was right, and it would be better if he simply let someone else handle Eleanor and those children. He held no ill will towards Doctor Evans, far from it. But this new girl made him nervous.

_"Death follows that woman like a plague. You've been lucky so far to escape it, but how long do you really think you can run before it catches up with you?"_

His hand rested gently on the receiver. It would be such a simple thing. One phone call, and his troubles would be over. But then, just before he could lift the receiver and call the number, he recalled the relief in Eleanor's eyes when he had said they could stay. She had practically crumpled into that chair. He pulled his hand back, ashamed. No, no matter what he had felt when he met her or what Caspi had said, there was nothing he could say that would justify turning that young woman and those girls she cherished so dearly over to some stranger, even if he did have the best of intentions. He would handle this himself, just as he always had, and trust that Evans knew what she was doing.

Lewis tore the card into pieces before throwing it into the waste bin. The wind howled, and he rose from his desk. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

A/N Well, this is yet another chapter that took me forever to complete, though I am rather pleased with how it turned out. I think part of why it took so long to do is that the perspective change wasn't something I really wanted to do. I wanted to focus on Eleanor for a bit longer before going back to Rapture, but I feel like we were in a good stopping place for now. We should be back to Eleanor next chapter, checking in with Tenenbaum periodically. I just needed to get things rolling for her and introduce some more plot stuff. Now that I've finished this, I can allow myself to play Infinite. I'm sort of afraid to, since I'm most likely going to be drawn to Elizabeth in the same way I'm drawn to Eleanor, and I already have two stories to work on and more that I would like to. Oh well, I've got a drawer full of papers for that sort of thing. I wanted to say also just how much I appreciate all the reviews. I've gotten way more than I expected, and it really does keep me motivated, despite the long delays. Please keep reading and reviewing, and I'll try to move a little faster.


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